Mastery
by Arciadrian
Summary: Long ago, a terrible sorceress named Terithia laid waste to the entire land, conquering everything. She was eventually defeated by five powerul magic users and locked away. But whispers of a powerful cult have arisen, whispers of a plot to free her.
1. Prodigy

Prodigy

He had been looking forward to this day for years. All of his roommates had as well. On this day, all of them turned fifteen. That was the age of reckoning. The day of Choosing.

Ander had long awaited this day. After years of being tutored by irate old men, and forced to learn histories he would never use. He wasn't going to be a historian.

There were few choices before them. All young boys were taken from thier parents at birth, and raised in the Lord's castle, learning from the lord and his staff.

The choice most made was to become soldiers. Ander had never even considered this. The second choice was to be a servant of the Lord. Another was to be a preist to the Gods. Then there were others, like being an artisan, a chef, or a horseman.

The last was to become a feared and dangerous Magic User. Very few ever undertook the Quickening. This was the test, which determined whether a boy would become such a dangerous individual.

No-one knew what the Quickening was.

But as Ander stood in line before the Council, he had his doubts. What if he couldn't become a Magic User? Or, as they were properly called, Masters. Practicers of the Black Arts.

The boy in front of him was called forward. Seconds later, he left, and the Lord called,"Ander! Come forward, Ander."

Ander shook slightly. He walked forward, and stood in the circle of men. These men were the Senior Craftsmen. They decided what became of a man. The Lord was seated center, while the Senior Smith was seated beside him, and the Senior Swordsman sat on his other side. He looked at them all. Senior Chef. Senior Horseman. Senior Fletcher. Senior Artisan. Senior Farmer. Last of all was a man seated in a smaller chair. He wore a long black cloak, marked with a brooch made from gold, inlaid with rubies. His face was well hidden, and he wore black gloves, boots, and dark attire beneath his cloak.

This was the Master. Of this area, anyway. There were far more than one. He was just one of a whole legion of powerful people.

The Lord broke the sudden silence, by saying,"Who will take him?"

Only three people rose. The Senior Swordsman, the Senior Horseman, and the Senior Farmer.

The Lord nodded to the Swordmaster. He nodded back, and said,"He's got the build, sir. I would be happy to have him. We are somewhat short on new recruits."

The Horsemaster interrupted him."He is perfect for the saddle, sir. I need young men like him."

The Farmer said,"Lord, I would be happy for anyone."

The Lord nodded, and started to speak, but then, he suddenly went pale. He sat quickly, and they all turned to see what he was looking at.

The Master had gotten to his feet. He turned his head, and surveyed them all without speaking. He walked forward, his feet making absolutely no sound. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small pendant.

The others unfroze. The Swordmaster and Horsemaster both leapt to thier feet. They started to protest, but then the Master turned his hidden gaze on them. A whisper of sound came from beneath the hood, and both men clutched at thier throats. Then the Master turned away. Both men relaxed, and took thier seats.

The Master clasped the pendant at Ander's throat, and then stepped back. The Lord stood."As you will, Master Clarissa."

Ander stared at the Master. He had thought him a man, but now that he looked closer, he noticed that his build was slighter, his hands more slender, to be a man. This was a woman. A female Master! He had never seen nor heard of a woman becoming a Master.

But of course, the Masters were a secretive lot. No-one knew eveything about them but themselves. And he had been chosen. Just as he had always wanted.

The Master made a slight motion towards the Lord, then turned and walked out of the Council hall, motioning at Ander to follow. He did, bowing to the Lord and the Senior Councillors.

The Master was incredibly quick on her feet. He followed her out of the city, and into the forest. She moved like a specter beneath the trees, like a shadow.

They entered a clearing. Two horses stood in the clearing, grazing on the fragrant green grass that grew there. A stream gurgled nearby.

The Master vualted into the saddle, an athletic motion that Ander had never assumed a Master could make. He had always assumed that the Masters were slightly lazy, since thier power gave them whatever they wanted.

Obviously not so, because the Master was more athletic than anyone he knew. Even the Senior Swordsman.

He got into the saddle of the other horse. The Master kneed her mount, bringing the horse to a steady trot. Ander hurried to catch up. The Master did not speak, but instead kept up a steady pace. They rode for several hours. Although Ander tried to talk to her, She simply held up a hand each time.

When they stopped, the Master didn't get off her horse. She reached into the saddlebag, and handed Ander a small leather pouch. He opened it, to find it full of dried fruit. He ate ravenously, and when the Master handed him a water skin, he drained it.

When he had put the empty items into his own saddlebags, the Master took off again. This time, they rode until it got dark. Then the Master slid from her saddle, and led her horse to a small clearing in the formidible forest they'd ridden through since they left.

Ander also got down, and his knees almost buckled when he hit the ground. He followed the Master to the far side of the clearing, where he tied the horse's rope to a branch that had evidence of being used for that exact purpose many, many times before.

The Master turned to the circle of stones that were arranged in the center of the clearing. She went to a pile of firewood, and piled several logs in the pit, then produced steel and flint from beneath her robe. She struck the flint several times, then put it away as the fire caught. She walked over to her horse, and unsaddled him. She motioned for Ander to to the same. He did, copying her practiced movements. Then she pulled two blankets from the saddlebags. She spread hers a little distance from the fire, and Ander did the same.

The Master took out another packet of fruit. She also pulled out a small packet of meat. The last she pulled out was a small wineskin.

The Master removed her heavy cloak. Under it, she was really very beautiful. She had long golden hair, bound back in a severe braid. Her eyes were bright blue, and her lips were a soft pink. She wore no makeup, but she did have a single piece of jewelry. A necklace, with the design like the one on the pendant she'd given to Ander. The same as her brooch.

She wordlessly began to eat, passing food to Ander. She did not offer the wineskin until after they were done. She took a short swallow, then passed it to him. He followed her example, only drinking a little.

Then she acknoledged him for the first time, giving a small approving nod. She wrapped herself in her blanket, and turned her back to him. He did as well, reveling in her presence, overwhelmed at the prospect of becoming a Master.

Morning came all too soon. He was torn from that realm of blissful sleep by the hand of the Master shaking his shoulder. She was gone before he could open his eyes, already saddling her horse. He rose grogily, and hurried to saddle his own animal. Then she leapt into the saddle, and watched him from beneath her hood.

Ander repacked the food packets, and the blankets, then got into the saddle. She gave another slight nod, then rode away. He quickly caught up, and she spoke for the first time.

"We will soon arrive at Queen's City. Have you ever heard of it?" He voice was melodic, smooth, and soft. But beneath that, he could hear an edge.

Ander thought, then said,"I don't think so, Master."

Another nod."It is the city where the Master's make thier home. There is a palace there, where you will be going. If you survive the Quickening, you will live there, trained by a Master chosen by the Council of Five."

Ander dared ask a question."What is the Quickening?"

The Master did not turn."The Council of Five will explain."

Ander frowned."But what is the Council of Five?"

The Master turned to look at him now. He couldn't see beneath her hood, but he felt her eyes on him."The Council of Five is the ruling body of the Masters. It is they who make all decisions, and they who perform the Quickening. You will meet them tommorow. Today, I will teach you the proper ettiquite of the Masters."

They rode for several more hours, with her teaching him how to behave around other Masters. She told him that to speak without invitation, like he had when he asked his question, was considered very rude with a Master of higher rank. The Council of Five were above all, and one must never meet thier eyes. All who even went into thier presence, other than the Masters, went immediatly to thier knees.

She said that if he survived, there were others of his own age in the palace. He would behave as he liked with them, but he must treat all Masters with respect.

He had several questions, but he fought them back. She nodded again, and said,"Questions have thier place. When you are assigned to a Master, he or she will be your teacher. For now, keep your questions to yourself. It is not my place to answer them. Soon. For now, I will explain the order to you, so that you are not overly confused when we arrive."

She told him that the Order of Masters was split into four parts. First, at the bottom, were the Pupils. They were taught mostly mundane things, like thier basic history, reading, writing, arithmetic, and self defense.

After these Pupils came the proper Apprentices. The Masters handpicked the Pupil they would take on, then they trained them in the arts of Magic. This process usually took close to ten years.

Then, when the Master deemed them ready, they were brought before the Council of Five, where they were tested. Then, if the passed, they took thier place among the ranks of the Masters.

At the top was the Council of Five itself. New members were chosen when one of the old members died.

As she instructed him, Queen's City came into view. At first, all he could see were the great walls. He saw bright points moving atop them, and deduced that these were armored men patroling the walls.

Then they reached the gigantic gates. Made from steel, they stood thirty feet tall by twenty wide. Ten men stood outside, and one of them stopped the two travellers. He bowed deeply to the Master, and shouted,"Open the gates! A Master demands entrance!"

With a hollow boom, the gates ground open. The Master led the way through, and they were inside the city.

They stood on a wide stone street. It led past shops and restraunts, inns and bars. And at the top, stood a huge square. Around this square stood huge mansions, all made from white stone. Two avenues led off of this open square, and Ander saw that they met again to form one large road that led to the base of a mountain. The road went up in a zigzag, switchbacking up the face of the mountain. It led to a massive palace built into the side of the mountain. They wound up the road, and then stopped before the gates that admitted entry to the palace grounds. Two white robed men stood there, both armed with elegant swords, and bows that gleamed, made from white wax wood.

They bowed to the Master, as the other guards had. And, come to think of it, so had everyone they'd come across. They allowed them to pass, and opened the golden gates.

The grounds were huge, and filled with flowers, bushes, trees, and secluded ponds. A broad path paved with white marble led to the huge wooden doors that were firmly shut against intruders. The windows of the palace were all stained glass.

The Master dismounted. Ander quickly followed her example, and they left thier horses on the path. She climbed the broad stairs, and banged on the doors with a closed fist. The echoing boom lasted for a full minute. Then the doors swung soundlessly outward.

The hall inside was brightly lit from the windows, and the marble floor reflected the light nicely. Incense burned in multiple braziers all over the place, and more white robed young men and women walked quietly through this hall. There were also a few boys and girls around Ander's age here, wearing creamy tan colored robes.

The Master walked calmly through them, and they all turned and bowed respectfully before going on thier way. She led Ander up a large marble stair, and then up several more. They climbed steadily through the palace, encountering less and less of the youngest people, fewer of the white robes youths, and now a few black robed Masters. They did not bow to the Master, but did greet her with inclined heads.

Then, then climbed a last stair. They stood on a large landing, and Ander faced a large door, painted red, with the Master's symbol. A lightning struck tower.

The Master stopped. She knocked on the door, and then pushed him gently through.

He stepped into the room, struck by how dark it was. He got the impression of five raised seats, one higher than the others, before he remembered what the Master had taught him. He bowed, and fell to his knees. No-one but a Master could stand on thier own feet before the Council of Five.

The five Masters did not speak for a moment, then one said,"You are the Pupil brought by Master Clarissa?"

Knowing it was rude not to answer, Ander replied,"Yes, Master."

He heard a rustle, and then another voice say,"Then you are prepared for the Quickening?"

Ander felt sudden fear. He hesitated, and said,"I don't know, Master."

A woman's voice said,"Master Clarissa did not explain the Quickening?"

Ander shook his head."Master Clarissa said it was not her place." He still did not look up, although he was burning to look at the Masters.

The first voice spoke again."Then let us explain, before we begin. The Quickening is a magical ritual that opens your blood to Magic. Without this ritual, you would remain closed to the Magic. So we perform the Quickening." He fell silent, and another spoke.

"Now, are you ready?"

Ander nodded."I am, Master."

The Masters all rose. He could hear thier robes rustling. They stepped down from thier chairs, and formed a circle around Ander. Then, one of them began to sing softly. Another began whispering. Rustling came from the left, like one of them was moving his arms. The woman started humming, and the last chanted softly.

Ander didn't feel aything for a second. Then, a warm feeling started in his chest. It spread, growing hotter. And hotter. And hotter still. He flinched, and fell on his side, in agony. But no sound came from his mouth. The heat and pain lasted a few more seconds, then began to fade.

When the heat was almost gone, fresh pain flared sharply in his upper back. He heard a ripping sound, and then felt a draft on his back. He felt like he would throw up. The Council of Five fell silent for a moment, then started muttering. They backed away, retaking thier seats.

When Ander finally felt better, he pushed himself back onto his knees. He waited, and finally, a voice said,"Rise."

Ander rose to his feet immediatly, at first not even realizing enormous impact of that one word. He was standing, in the presence of the Council of Five. Only Masters were allowed to stand in thier presence. Ander still kept his eyes downcast. He still saw the hems of the Council's robes. They were ebony, with bloodred designs sewn into the black.

The Council rose. They stood silent for a moment, then one of them said,"He is . . . Prodigeous?"

Another voice answered."It seems . . . it seems so."

Ander almost couldn't believe it. They sounded doubtful! The Council of Five! He had never thought to hear them doubt anything!

Then the woman spoke."Look up, boy. Look upon the Council."

Ander couldn't believe his ears! Actually look at the Council of Five? He did as he was told. He met thier eyes.

They all wore hoods, so thier faces were hidden, but he could at least tell that there were four men, and only one woman. The man in the center must have been the Head of the Council.

Then, as one, they reached up with red gloved hands and lowered thier hoods.

The man in the center had long black hair, and black eyes. His skin was pale, but he radiated strength. But there was something strange about him. Something vague. . . .

The next man was very different. His hair was black, too, but his eyes were solid blue, without pupil. His skin was blue as well, and it looked slightly scaly.

The woman had long red hair, and eyes that were definitely not human. They were gold, and slit pupiled, like a cat's.

The next man had fur all over his body. His nose was slightly flatter than most, and his eyes were soft and brown.

The last man had feathers for hair. He had yellow eyes, eyes that seemed like they could peirce a man's soul.

Then he identified the first man's vague difference. He had gills. Along the sides of his neck, three pink slits opened and closed, showing the tender flesh beneath.

The woman spoke."Some people react very strangely to the Quickening. They aquire strange physical differences. They are very powerful with magic, and usually very skilled physically as well. They are called the Prodigeous. Look at yourself."

Ander did. He looked down at his body, expecting to find some horrendous deformation. He found none. He body hadn't changed. Then he felt a cold draft on his back. He wrapped his arms around himself, and felt something on his upper back.

Ander spun around, tearing frantically at his shirt. He felt the strange appendige, and then stared at the Council of Five. The woman nodded, and hummed a quick tune. The floor shimmered, and turned reflective.

Ander stared hard at his reflection. Huge black feathered wings jutted from his shoulder blades. They perfectly matched his ebony hair and strange, black eyes. His eyes had always been that way, though. They were black with gold flecks in them.

He tried to move the wings, and found that he could. They moved like arms, and were as easy to control. He brought them foward, closing around his body, and sent them sweeping back. The resulting jerk threw him forward. He landed with a huff, and pushed himself to his feet, his face burning.

The Council evaluated him with narrowed eyes. They seemed to be thinking hard. At last, the head of the Council nodded. They all sat."You will be trained like any other Pupil. But remember, you are Prodigeous. Your power may well exceed that of the other Pupils. We will be watching you." He waved a red gloved hand, and Ander bowed one last time. Without looking up, he backed out of the Council Chamber.

Master Clarissa waited in the hall. She gasped. He moved his new wings self conciously. Master Clarissa shook, then said,"I will show you to the Pupil's wing. You will stay there until you are chosen by a Master." Without another word, she turned on her heel and stalked off. He hurried to catch up, ignoring the stares of the Masters. He caught up along a corridor filled with Pupils in their cream colored garments. They all stopped in thier tracks, staring openmouthed at him.

Master Clarissa made a quick gesture with her hands. The Pupils all moved quickly on thier way, not without many glancing over thier shoulders.

Master Clarissa led him into a small room with two neat beds. It was empty, but Master Clarissa said,"Rarely does a room go unused. You will likely soon have a roommate. There are garments in that wardrobe. You will change them every day, and place the soiled clothing in the basket down the hall. Clear?" Ander nodded.

"Good. Tommorow, at seven o'clock, you are expected at the dining hall. After you leave, follow the other Pupils. They will aid you if you get lost. We shall not meet again for some time, as I am returning to my post. You will give any Master your absolute obedience. Clear?"

Ander nodded again, and bowed. Master Clarissa nodded, and swept from the room. Ander watched her go with mingled feelings. For one, she was the only one he knew here. For two, he was relieved to be away from her. The Masters were unsettling.

He went to the wardrobe, and pulled out a neatly stacked outfit. It was very soft, made from cotton. He pulled it on, relieved that it was so simple. He had thought that the Order's clothes would be far grander.

Then he noticed something. His new wings, although they felt strange before, now felt sore and cramped. He took off the shirt, and moved them a bit. Then he heard someone gasp.

Ander spun around. An Apprentice stood there, in white robes. He bowed to the Apprentice, and the Apprentice nodded in return."I have a message from the Council of Five. They say that you may cut the back of your garments to allow for your wings. They said that you would be wondering."

Ander almost whistled in awe. The Masters had thought he would be wondering before he even realized the problem. He looked at the Apprentice, and recalled it was not rude to speak to them."Why do the Pupil's wear only a shirt and trousers? Why don't we wear cloaks?"

The Apprentice smiled."Only Masters are permitted to wear cloaks. We Apprentices wear robes. We aren't allowed cloaks either. Anything else?"

Ander grinned."Yeah. You got a knife?"

A few minutes later, he was gingerly pushing his wings through the two foot slits he'd made in the fabric. They slid through perfectly, and he nodded in satisfaction. He turned to thank the Apprentice, only to find a different Apprentice standing there. This one a girl, with long honey blonde hair, and crystal blue eyes. She nodded as he bowed, and then said,"Will you be jioning the other Pupils at dinner?"

Ander shook his head."Not tonight. I think I just want to be alone for a while."

The girl nodded sagely."Yes. Most do. You may find making friends here difficult, though. The Prodigeous are regarded with awe, respect, and fear. Do not be overly hopeful." She nodded again, then left, closing the door softly behind herself. Ander spent a few minutes exploring the sparse quarters, the small lavatory, the bedroom, and a small study. He eventually sat on the bed, and pulled out the pendant he'd been given. Everyone had one. All of the other people he'd seen had been wearing them.

He set it on the bedside, and pulled out several more of the cream shirts. He methodically slitted the backs, to allow room for his wings. They seemed to be permanent. That done, he undressed, and lay full on the bed. It wasn't very comfortable, but he still fell asleep quickly.


	2. Road to Mastery

Road to Mastery

Ander woke before the sun had risen. He heard commotion in the hall, and quickly dressed in the cream colored clothes he'd prepared. After navigating his wings through thier alloted slits, he folded them tightly against his back. He pinned the pendant on the breast of the shirt, as he'd seen the others do. Then he left the room.

Many other Pupils were up and moving. They did not openly aknowledge him, but he felt thier gaze on his back as he took a place in line. He followed them through the halls, and down several flights of stairs, and into the vast dining hall. There was no-one else here. The Pupils took thier seats, and then other Pupils, boys and girls, came scurrying along the tables, laden with trays of food.

The hall was divided into three sections by level. After about thirty feet into the hall, six steps led up into another section, raised above the first. this secton also had tables, like the , another thirty feet, another six steps. After that, the hall went on for mabye twenty more feet, still filled with tables. But these tables were finer, and the chairs far more comfortable, then a raised dias held a final table. This table had five chairs behind it, all of them like thrones. They were furnished with black silk, and red stitching depicting a lightning struck tower.

That must be where the Five sit, Ander thought. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the white robed Apprentices filed in, about thirty of them in all. They took thier seats, but did not touch thier food. Niether had the Pupils. Then, everyone stood. Ander hastily followed thier example.

Several black cloaked Masters walked into the hall. They went and stood beside thier chairs, then every Pupil fell to his or her knees. The Apprentices did as well. The Masters all bowed.

The Council of Five walked into the hall, through it, and then took thier seats at the head table. The Masters sat, followed by the Apprentices, then the Pupils sat last. The Council of Five began eating, and the lower two sections of the Hall filled with the low buzz of conversation.

Ander found himself talking to another boy a bit older than him. The boy had short brown hair, and brown eyes. He wore the cream clothes of a Pupil, but had a different pendant. His was white gold, unlike Ander's bronze one. The boy noticed his scrutiny and said,"I was chosen by a Master. After the Council meets with him, he'll give me the white robes. This is like a transition."

Ander couldn't tell why, but he liked this boy. He looked around, then said,"How many other Pupils are there? It looks like there are more Pupils than Apprentices and Masters combined."

The boy nodded."There are. Far as we know, there are only seventeen Masters right now. There are twenty nine Apprentices, and there are more than two hundred Pupils. Not everyong makes it past thier first few weeks. Some leave, and take up easier lives. But they say that after you become an Apprentice, you don't learn much other than magic. The Masters don't teach much, because Apprentices learn most of thier powers on their own. Masters just prod them in the right direction."

Ander didn't think about that."What's your name? How do you know so much about this?"

The boy grinned."My name's Lethran. Most people call me Leth. I know a lot, because my dad's a Master. He tells me a few things, but he says that I have to be patient and learn it all on my own."

Ander nodded thoughtfully."Why don't the Masters talk much? They seem really cold and distant."

Leth nodded vigoriously."Oh, yeah. Have you ever noticed how the Masters are treated outside the palace? All that reverance and fear? Makes thier job easier. Everybody cooperates with the Masters, because they know they'll be punished harshly if they don't."

Ander laughed."But don't they talk among themselves?"

Leth frowned."I'm not sure. I think they must, but they don't talk openly in front of anyone else."

Ander was about to ask another question, when a bell tolled somewhere high in the palace. All of the Pupils rose, leaving thier food half eaten. They began to file off in different directions. Ander looked around frantically for somewhere to go, but Leth just grabbed his arm and pulled him along behind him. They followed a group of Pupils up a flight of stairs and into a large auditorium They all took thier seats as a Master entered. He surveyed them all, his gaze resting on Ander."You, Prodigeous. Master Jacyn will be training you personally for now. Meet him in the entrance hall."

Ander tried to ignore all of the stares that caused. He got up quickly, barely remembered to bow to the Master, and walked swiftly out of the auditorium. He went back downstairs, through several now-deserted corridors.

When he arrived at the entrance hall, a black robed Master was waiting. He did not look up as Ander entered, but motioned with a hand and walked down a broad hallway. They exited the palace, and walked through the grounds.

After a minute, Ander couldn't bear it anymore. He blurted out,"What are we doing, Master?"

The Master turned to him, and said,"We are walking, Prodigeous. It requires very little from you, but I find it provides a great opportunity to think. Now, keep silent. I will address you in due course." He turned and started to walk again.

Ander quickly followed, but did not speak again. The Master led him to a small building, and then opened it's small wooden door with a muttered word. They walked inside, and Ander found only a staircase, going up. They climbed this, and Ander found himself in an airy room with many archways open to the sky. The Master halted, and Ander did as well.

The Master nodded, and said,"The Council of Five believes that you require more direct training than the other Pupils. They have assigned me to give that training. You may ask questions, and you will refer to me as Master, or Master Jacyn. Only that. Am I clear?"

Ander nodded, and said,"Yes Master. I do have a question."

Jacyn nodded, and said,"Well, ask it."

Ander faltered, then continued,"Why do the Masters always appear to be so cold and distant?"

Jacyn laughed. He removed his hood, and Ander could finally see his features. Jacyn was very young, mabye in his late twenties. He had black hair, and green eyes, and his skin was well tanned. He spoke, and Ander couldn't help but realize that his mouth did not move."The Masters are a symbol. That symbol is one of fear and respect. You will learn from the histories I will teach you why that is so."

Ander almost blurted out his newest question but Jacyn anticipated it."Masters rarely talk out loud. After much training, you will be able to commuicate tellipathically, like the Masters do."

Ander had one last question."Why do all of the Council of Five have various animal traits?"

Jacyn hesitated, then said,"You looked upon the Council of Five? You actually saw them? With permission?"

Ander nodded, holding his breath.

Jacyn regained his composure."The Council of Five are all Prodigeous. They are like you, and far more powerful than normal Masters. There are very few Prodigeous. About one in every twenty magic users are Prodigeous. There about seven magic users that are, eight including you."

Ander looked at him full in the face."Who are the others, Master?"

Jacyn raised an eyebrow."There are the Five on the Council, then an Apprentice. I am the last, besides you."

Ander nearly gasped. He spoke again, almost before Jacyn was done talking."Is that why you were assigned to train me?"

Jacyn nodded, and spoke out loud."Yes. I am the only Master besides the five that knows what you are and how you can be best instructed. We start tommorow, Apprentice." He handed another pendant to Ander, one of white gold.

Ander stared at it, then said,"I'm your Apprentice? I thought . . . ."

Jacyn smiled. This time he spoke out loud."You are an Apprentice. You aren't ready to think yet. And no, there are no set rules for our order. The Council will decide. For now, return to your room. My other Apprentice is waiting for you."

Ander nodded, and bowed."Thank you Master Jacyn." Jacyn pulled his hood back up, and gave a slight nod. Ander left him there, and returned to the palace.

He entered the entrance hall, and found it full of Pupils. They all turned as the door opened, then deadly silence fell. They all stared. Stared at him. At his wings. At the pendant on his breast.

An older Pupil shouldered his way to the front, and said,"What? You haven't been here more than two days, and you're already an Apprentice? Don't you know how things work around here? You have to be a Pupil for longer than that to become an Apprentice!"

As he spoke, his voice full of bitterness and spite, Ander's wings raised in an unconcious preperation for a fight. But before the Pupil could speak again, There was a slight movement behind Ander. He spun around, and found himself staring straight at a black and red cloaked member of the Council of Five. He fell to his knees at once, as did all the other boys and girls in the hall.

The Master simply surveyed them all from beneath his or her hood. Then, a voice came forth. A female voice.

"What is this, now? Teasing him are you? No, this goes beyond teasing. And I believe that it is inexcusable. I believe that a weeks worth of kitchen duty, alone, is deserved. What say you, Apprentice?"

Ander did not look up."As you think proper, Master." He studied the hem of her cloak, and she spoke again."I do not recall telling these Pupils to sit about all day. On your way, Pupils. You have studies to attend." She turned and swept from the room.

Ander stood, and was on the top stair of the staircase before any of the Pupils had gotten to thier feet. He walked quickly through the passages, and found his room without difficulty. He entered, and turned to close the door behind himself. When he turned back, he found that he was not alone.

The boy was about the same hieght, and build as he was. He wore the white robes of an Apprentice, which left his blond head bare. His black eyes studied Ander for a moment, then he said,"You are Ander?"

Ander nodded. He raised an eyebrow and said,"You are Master Jacyn's Apprentice?"

He nodded."I'm Brand. I was told that Master Jacyn took you on as a second Apprentice?"

Ander nodded. He held up the white pendant, and asked,"Did you know that Master Jacyn is-"

"Prodigeous? Yes. I would. I am Prodigeous as well." As he spoke, he raised a hand. Instead of nails, he had claws on his fingers. He brushed his hair back, and Ander saw that his ears were pointed, with tufts of fur on the tips.

Ander inclined his head, and raised his wings. They fanned out, and Brand took a shocked step back. He regained his composure, and said,"I'm to show you to your new room. You'll be sharing with me, since we have the same Master. Follow me." He walked past Ander, opened the door, and started off down the hall.

Ander followed behind him. They passed into a section of the palace where there were no Pupils. Several Apprentices passed them, but no Masters. They came to a room that was slightly larger than the one they'd left. Two large white beds each had their side of the room, and two wardrobes. A small study, shelves full of scrolls and leather bound books, was in a corner. A small lavatory through a door would be thiers to share.

Brand said,"The right side is mine. You can have the left. Although you won't really be taught history and things like that, you should still study them. The Masters encourage it.

"You're probably curious about the things that Master Jacyn will be teaching us. There are three things that a Master must be accomplished in. The first, of course, is magic. That will be the center of his focus. The second is stealth. A Master is also a spy, and a good one. Last, you have to be able to fight without magic. Master Jacyn is the most accomplished swordsmaster I've ever seen."

Ander nodded."I thought that Masters only used magic." He hadn't known about all of the other things. He knew that the Masters always gave off an aura of power, giving the impression that they could best you in any way. Ander asked about that.

Brand nodded, grinning."That's the trademark of a magic user. You have one, but it's still hard to detect. It will get stronger as you do. That's why a Master always knows when another Master is around."

Ander nodded again."So it's like a fire? Like you can smell the smoke, and see the glow?"

Brand looked suprised."That's how Master Jacyn describes it. Like a fire."

There came a knock on the door. Another Apprentice entered, and said,"Brand, Master Jacyn wants to see you. Ander, he said you should stay here, but you could tag along if you wished."

Brand glanced at him before saying,"Where is Master Jacyn?"

The girl smiled, and said,"He told me that you could find him."

Brand groaned."Every opportunity for a lesson." He went to his desk, and made a note, then asked,"Will you be coming then, Ander?"

Ander considered. He'd never seen magic before, and he was sure that Jacyn would be teaching Brand to control it. He nodded."I'll come."

Brand nodded, and closed his eyes. He was still for a moment, then he started to sway back and forth. He did this for a moment, then his eyes shot open."Top of the north tower. Let's go."

They left again. Ander reflected that he moved around a lot now. They moved quickly, because Brand said the Masters didn't like being kept waiting.

They arrived at the base of a spiral staircase. Ander thought he could feel . . . an elusively cold feeling. Brand shivered, so he knew he wasn't alone. They climbed the stairs, and thrn through a trapdoor. They were on the room of the tower. It was a parapet.

Master Jacyn stood with his back them. He did not turn."You are nearly late, Brand."

Brand stepped forward, and bowed."Master Jacyn."

The attack was nearly soundless. One second, they stood motionless, waiting for Master Jacyn to speak. Then something like a powerful wind shoved the forward, knocking them off thier feet.

Brand was up in an instant. He barely deflected the next wind, which followed closely on the heels of the first. He started swaying he had before, and a more powerful gust rocked the entire towertop. He almost fell, but at the last minute, the gust reversed itself. It faded, and Brand jerked violenly to one side.

A section of the sky shimmered, and Master Jacyn appeared. He was dressed as his illusion had been, in his black cloak and attire. He walked forward, and said,"Well played, Brand."

Brand looked pleased."I wasn't expecting the elemental sending."

Jacyn nodded."I know you weren't. Niether was Ander. And if he had been hurt, it would have been your fault. But well played, as I said. You did well."

Brand glowed in the compliment. Jacyn allowed it, then said,"We leave tommorow. I have been asked to relieve Master Felmir in the northern village of Merkstrait. You will both accompany me. From the Master's reports, there is a crime there that must be solved."

Brand looked suprised, but Ander looked shocked. An assignment from the Council already? He hadn't been there for more than two days!

Jacyn looked at him."This order comes not from the Council, but from Parliament itself."

This time Brand gasped. Ander was no less suprised. The Parliament was the ruling body of the country. They almost never worked with the Order, but sometimes asked them for favors. That hadn't been done in years. The current Prime Minister was too proud.

Jacyn continued,"I will be teaching both of you on the road, when we stop each night. It will take us a week to arrive. You're instruction will continue for one hour each night. Am I clear?"

Both of the Apprentices said,"Yes, Master."


	3. Road to Merkstrait

Road to Merkstrait

Master Jacyn himself woke them before dawn. He led them out of the palace, and into the stables that were situated near the gates. They saddled three horses, and Master Jacyn waved at a nearby guard. The man leapt to attention, and barked an order to open the gates. They mounted, and rode quickly through the wide gap.

Master Jacyn turned to Brand. Some kind of communication passed between them, because Brand started swaying in the saddle. Then, the sound of thier horse's hooves faded to a muted padding, like a cat.

They rode on, with the two Apprentices looking quite strange in thier white robes. Mastre Jacyn looked a forbidding as ever in his black cloak. They passed almost silently through the huge city. It was only then that Ander noticed the true size of the gargantuan metropolis. It entirely encircled the mountain of the Order of Masters, and was encased in it's massive wall.

They passed through the city gates in a similar fashion, and then they were outside. Master Jacyn picked up the pace, and they followed for a few minutes, following him to a small clearing in the surrounding forest.

Master Jacyn reined his mount, and dismounted. The others hurried to copy him. He rummaged in his saddlebags, then pulled out a large black bundle. He shook it out, and it took a shape. Two long black cloaks.

He handed one to each of them."You will wear these while we travel. They will identify you, and people will treat you with respect. Beware, if you let this go to your head, you will be severly punished by the Council of Five. This is a great honor. You will think of nothing but your duty while you wear these."

Both of them nodded gravely. They donned the cloaks, and then re-mounted. They rode well into the night, then stopped. Much like Master Clarissa, Master Jacyn believed in traveling to get somewhere, not to see where you're going. Ander asked him about that one night while they rested from riding and thier lessons.

Master Jacyn laughed, something that Ander had come to cherish."If you're going to sightsee, you have lost sight of what is really important. Your purpose."

They had spent an hour every evening training. Master Jacyn did not believe in going easy on them. He pushed them to the limits of thier endurance. And farther. As he would say if they dared complain,"You must find your abilities. If you have gone as far as you can, go father. Your mind will tell you when to stop. Your body will force you to. Listen to your body. It cannot be corrupted by petty desires."

He taught Ander and Brand to bind and control thier magical abilities. Brand had had far more practice at this. Jacyn engaged him in mock duels, forcing him to fight back, to give it his all. To no avail. He could never harm Jacyn.

In his own turn, Jacyn taught Ander to focus his attention."Attention is the heart of magic. Power without direction is the most dangerous thing in the world. For both you and the ones you love."

He did not force Ander to fight with magic, instead teaching him the fundamentals of the world, how to focus magic to change the world within the bonds of nature. He told Ander that it was possible to do almost anything with magic, but working within nature was the easiest way. With training and experience, he could even change the fabric of nature. This power was not taught to new Apprentices, though.

On top of thier magical training, Jacyn sparred with them using dull swords and knives, staves and thier own bare hands. They quickly learned to ignore pain, as Jacyn never paused to allow them to nurse thier injuries."Pain is a message. Messages can be ignored. As always, trust in your body, in your instincts." Jacyn drilled this message into them constantly. Trust your instincts.

They also played games of stealth. Jacyn of course could become invisible with a muttered word. And Ander learned something very interesting.

All magic users were different. All had different ways of using magic, of channeling it's flow. Some spoke, some whispered, some waved thier hands in a certain way. Many swayed, like Brand. Some, a very few, sang. And, almost legendary, was the mention of a magic user who could work magic with his thoughts alone.

Jacyn was a magic user who spoke, or whispered to achieve his wishes. As had Clarissa been. Ander was suprised to find tht he was a singer. He could sing a few words, nonsense words to most people, but to him they made perfect sense. They were his channel.

After about a month of this hard travel, they arrived at thier destination. A small town in the north, a town by the name of Merkstrait.

They rode calmly into the village. The people gawked at them in awe, only barely remembering to bow to the three Masters, the keepers of the peace, the judges of the imprisoned, and the protectors of the law.

Ander felt slightly uncomfortable. This was a lie. A deception. He was no Master. But Master Jacyn had told him to wear the cloak. It would make people listen to him. They would cooperate more readily.

Master Jacyn went directly to the meeting hall of the town. There he sat in the center chair. The mayor's chair, no doubt. He gestured for them to sit on either side of him. They took thier seats just as the members of the village council filed in. The mayor and his two most trusted advisors turned slightly pink at the sight of the three Masters in thier chairs, but they were wise enough to say nothing. They stood, facing them, eyes downcast.

Jacyn cleared his throat."What is the problem here?" He asked in a menacing voice. Almost like he wished the problem to be far worse. He had told them he would act thus. Fear was a strong weapon, one wielded expertly by the Masters for many years.

The villagers shuddered, and the mayor said,"There have been murders, my lord. They have all occured at night, as far as we can tell. Three men have been killed. There was a lot of blood, and then, the bodies disappeared. We have no idea where they went."

Jacyn was silent, then he said,"What have you done to find this murderer?" He steepled his fingers, and Brand started tapping his fingers on the table. They were putting on a show. Master Jacyn's voice had become slightly indifferent, like he was losing interest.

The mayor's vioce rose slightly."We have questioned various people. They all claim ignorance, but we had hoped that a Master would uncover more evidence."

Jacyn made a bored noise. Brand leaned back in his chair, and laced his fingers together.

The Mayor paled."If, my lord, that is what you wish. I mean, if-"

Jacyn sat forward."What are you still doing here? You have presented your case. Now leave."

The Mayor turned tail and ran. The others were out of thier chairs and moving hurriedly for the exit. Jacyn waited until they were gone, then he muttered a few words.

"It is safe to talk. What do you think?" He nodded to Brand.

Brand swallowed."It seems to be a simple matter. I don't see what the need for a Master is."

Ander nodded."Nothing makes sense. They say they've questioned people, but why would nobody know anything? People always talk."

Jacyn nodded in praise."Both excellent points. But I have the answers. The Prime Minister informed the Council of Five that a small cult calling themselves the Scion of Terithia. Do either of you two know the signifigance o that name?"

Ander shook his head, and Brand said,"Wasn't there an empress named Terithia?"

Jacyn nodded."Yes. Empress Terithia. She was the last of the heriditary rulers. When her empire was overthrown, the Ministry was set in place. Let me bring some history into view."

He sat back again, and seemed to be collecting his thoughts."Before the Ministry, the world was very different. Various warlords had control of regions they'd taken from others. They were constantly at war, and none lasted long. Then, an alliance was proposed by a priest named Gilian. He said,'If you stand together, none shall best you.' And he was right, for more than three centuries. This was the Empire.

"During this time, magic ran rampant. Many could use it, but most went mad and killed themselves, because it corrupted thier thought with too much use. The few who could stand this and be unharmed were as gods. This priest, Gilian, was such a one.

"Although the regular people knew nothing of this, the warlords were the same, but much more powerful, and with the ability to control magic. These were the various Emperors, and Empresses. They used thier power to control the world, and in thier turn were unseated by more powerful foes.

"Then, little over a hundred years ago, a young woman named Terithia moved in, with an army of powerful creatures, and took over all. She led armies of dread creatures, bi-products of magic, experiments gone wrong. Many nightmares were created, and it seemed none could stop her.

"Then, five powerful magic users formed a group called the Order of Masters. They challenged Terithia and drove back her armies of dread creatures. They eventually stood against Terithia herself.

"She was, of course, Prodigeous. She was defeated, but they could not kill her. They instead built a massive underground palace, and locked her in its most deep hall. She still would not die, and then came a small group of small time magic users attemped to free her, seeking a powerful mistress.

"They failed, after dueling the might of these five. They fled, and many were destroyed. But three escaped. All were Prodigeous. They were never found.

"The five realized that they would one day die. No-one lasts forever. They took apprentices into thier art, and trained them as best they could. These were the first of the Order.

Only one of the original Council of Five still lives. He is over ninety years old, and, as you both know, most in the present day and age do not live to be sixty."

Brand hesitated, then said,"So, this cult, is formed around her beliefs? They symbolize someone like that?"

Ander looked down."What does the word scion mean?"

Jacyn sighed."It means descendant, or child. Usually, it means a son, but can apply to a daughter. In this case, this cultists are calling themselves the Children of Terithia."

Brand looked confused."She had children? But they would be over seventy now! How can they be a threat?"

Jacyn glanced at him sadly."She did indeed have children, Apprentice. She had seven daughters, and three sons, none over the age of eight. When she was imprisoned, her children were considered a threat. Almost all of them were killed in thier sleep. Only one was spared, and she by luck. She was not in the palace that day. She and her caretaker were safely in the Empress' summer home. The girl was never found. Although she is believed dead now, there have been whispers that Terithia's bloodline continues. Magic does follow blood. "

Ander asked the golden question."What do we do now? Don't we have to catch these people?"

Jacyn nodded."If by we, you mean me, then yes. There is every possibility that these cultists are magic users. Niether of you are ready to fight people trained in the art of killing, especially in magic. I will be the only one of us to travel the village alone. If any of you leave the place were we will stay, you will go together. And as for the both of you, it is time you learned to fight with magic."

Jacyn called the members of the village council back in. They all stood, afraid of the Master's wrath. Jacyn explained, clearly, that they would _not_ be investigating the murders. The village soldiers and elders would cope. They would leave. Master Jacyn did not know when another Master would arrive, but he doubted it would be soon.

They left them sputtering and gasping. At last, one of the younger men of the councilors spoke up heatedly."But you can't do this!"

Master Jacyn froze. He did not turn, but Ander heard him whisper very softly to he spoke, his voice sounded demented, and like it came from a long, dark tunnel."No? And who is this that would challenge the Master's right to do as he pleases?"

The man went pale, and started to gibber apologies. Jacyn turned. Where his eyes should have been blazed two points of red fire. His hand came up, and flames burst to life among his fingers."You will never challenge my or any Master's authority again, puny man. You will treat all of our order with respect due to the protectors of your peace. This matter is below us. We have more pressing things to attend to, in the south."

Jacyn turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. Brand and Ander followed on his heels. They went to thier horses, and saddled up. They left town in a flurry, hooves flying, robes flapping.

They waited until nightfall, then re-entered under cover of darkness, without the horses.


	4. Scion of Terithia

Scion of Terithia

Master Jacyn chose thier new home. He found the place, at the edge of the village, quite deserted, and he had told them to stay there, until he returned. He had cast a powerful warding on the shack, and none could come within ten paces of it without being driven away. Or course, no spell is fault proof. But the only way would be to directly counteract his spell. And he would know in an instant.

He was back very soon. He arrived silently, and Ander, who had been waiting and watching, still did not see him until he was in the door. He assured Ander that he had been concieled well with magic.

He sat in an old chair."They think that we've gone. All but a very few. And they are thought to be over hopeful. Or those who think we are trying to trick them. But tonight, we begin."

They spent the rest of the day learning to fight and defend with magic. As with all else, if it can be dreamed, it can be done, with the proper ammount of willpower and concentration. Ander asked why they just didn't kill the Scion of Terithia without finding them. If they could do anything, why did they have to find them in a mundane way?

Jacyn had been ready for that. He had tried to reviel the culprits with magic, but they were well concieled from him. He could not find them.

"So they are Magic users?"

Jacyn had frowned."Either that, or they have a powerul magical artifact. Items of emotional value can be enchanted to perform a certain action. They may have one. Many have survived from ages long past."

Jacyn would train them during the day, and he would go out at night, cloaked and shielded with magic. He warned them to be watching for him when he returned, and said that they were to try to block him entry.

He was gone for a while. Ander cast a small detection spell, to alert them if another magic user attempted to come close to the shack. Brand was ready with a confinement spell, and they waited.

It was nearly dawn when he was back. Ander's spell woke him from a brief nap, and he woke Brand. Brand nodded, and released his spell.

There came a muffled exclamation, then silence. They waited, and Brand inched the door open. There lay a black cloaked figure, obviously confined by Brand's spell. Brand smiled, and went to free him.

There it was. No more than a flicker, but there he was. The figure on the ground was a fake!

Ander quickly composed the most powerful spell of trapping he could, and sang, quick and sharp. The air crackled with power, and Jacyn appeared, trapped in a web of magic, six feet from the copy on the ground. He looked quite shocked, then he hissed three words. They sounded like nonsense, but then the web fell off of him. He ushered them into the house, and closed the door.

He turned to them."That was the best team work I've ever seen with my own two eyes. But niether of you remembered until it was almost too late that I often cast illusions. Ander remembered when he caught a glimpse of me before I could strike. But well played, both of you. As for your spell to alert you of my return, I felt it at once. I could easily have negated it. This would have woken you, but you would not have known what had happened. I will let you feel the way it goes if one of your spells is foiled."

He sat in a chair, and with a muttered word, a mug appeared in his hand. He looked up at them."I assume that in the villages you came from, the Master there did not use magic often? This is because we do not like to show off. It accomplishes nothing. If anything, it is counterproductive. People know we can use magic, but they almost never see us do so. It keeps us shrouded in mystery.

"Now, I'm sure you are curious. I found out much tonight. It leaves us with two options. Firstly, I found that although there are several of this cult in this village, they are not based here. They come from the capital. The two men I interrogated said that they have a very powerul person in thier control. We must find out who this is.

"Secondly, I have discovered something that the Order has long suspected. The rouge magic user, Terithia, is still alive in her prison. She is in fact conducting this cult. We are to report to the Council of Five by tommorow."

Brand groaned."All the way back to Queen's City in a day? It took us a week to get here!"

Ander just looked at Jacyn."If it can be dreamed, it can be done."

Jacyn grinned."Very good. Of course, there are ways of communicating through magic over long distances. I will report to the Council during the session tommorow. I will be sending the two of you out together to interrogate the townsfolk. You will give lengthy and accurate reports. Nothing is beneath your notice. You must be observant, and you must memorize quickly and efficiently. That is the essence of a spy."

They slept under the protection of Master Jacyn's spell of absolute impotence. He said that it impeded all energy, from anything. Any living thing that came near the shack before the spell was cancelled would be rendered unconcious, at least.

The man knelt at her feet. He was ugly, and he smelled, but he was valueble. For now."What is it?"

"Mistress." He bowed, and continued."The Master has placed spells of protection around him and the Prodigeous. We dare not attack now."

She smiled coldly."You will do as I order you. Am I not the Empress' first servant? You will die at my lightest whim, slave. but for now, I need you alive. For now. I will send in my own creatures."

The man trembled."But Mistress! The spell will make short work of all living creatures! Even you are not his match!" Here, he froze, a look of terror coming over his face."I mean, He is very-"

She did not hesitate. With a simple twitch of her hand, the man screamed, and went to his knees, still screaming. She did not care if he woke the village. She twitched her hand again, and he stilled, curled up and sobbing.

Then she turned to the window. She perused the graveyard beyond, and closed her eyes, concentrating hard. Her mistress had stressed the power needed to re-animate the dead.

Ander woke unexplicably. He looked around, at the sleeping forms of both Jacyn and Brand. He felt it again, and sang softly.

The shack filled with a soft light. He looked around, and was comforted with the emptyness besides the three of them. He was about to extinguish the light, when he felt it again. A slight pulsing. Then he remembered the spell that Brand had placed to alert them if anyone came near the shack. They were active.

He glanced at Jacyn. The Master had not moved, therefore his own spell had not gone off. He looked at Brand, and as he did, the walls exploded inward.

He was on his feet in an instant, his lips parted in preparation to use magic, but a sight of horror froze him in place, his voice dying.

Dead hands grasped the walls, pulling them aside. Dead faces came through, followed by bodies in tattered clothing, thier skin gray and cold. They stank horribly, and one of them issued a bone chilling moan.

Ander unfroze. He knew now better than to attack them. He didn't know how to destroy them. He ran to Jacyn's side, and shook him awake.

Jacyn's eyes shot open. He coughed, and then stared around him in shock. He was on his feet in the next instant, and he hissed a set of horrible sounding words.

The nearest undead moaned louder, and suddenly exploded in flashes of light. Others rushed forward, thier speed belying thier frail looking bodies. Jacyn hissed agin, and more exploded."Brand! Get Ander out! Get him to the Council of Five! Tell them that she is rising!" He hissed a third time, and yet more of the dread creatures exploded.

Brand grabbed Ander's arm, and yanked him to a window, and pushed him through. He followed quickly after, and then looked back. Jacyn cast one more spell, a flash of violet light flashed, and then his master collapsed. More than twenty of the undead burst into flame and were instantly consumed. The remaining creatures came forward.

Brand ran for it. He grabbed Ander agian, and they ran.


	5. Seventh Daughter

Seventh Daughter

Jacyn came to slowly. He groaned, and recieved a sharp blow to the to pof his head. He growled, and tried to form his power. He blinked. He couldn't find it! It was gone!

His abuser chuckled."He's trying to use magic. Poor soul. Can you hear me, _Master? _ The Mistress has activated a powerful magical artifact. None can use magic but her in it's presence."

Jacyn closed his eyes. He knew who the 'Mistress' was. He'd met her before. Hell, he'd lived with her before he'd become a Master. He remembered the way she laughed, the way she would smile. He could remember from his earliest memories.

Sure enough, there came a command outside the door, and she walked in, as radiantly beautiful as ever. Although he suspected magic was keeping her young looking. She had long ebony black hair, and deep green eyes. Her lips were full and at the same time delicate. Her face was clean, and glowed slightly. He could feel her aura, like a bonfire.

She raised a perfect eyebrow. She didn't say anything, nor did Jacyn, studying her from beneath his hood. Her men hadn't been brave enough to remove it. Wise of them. It carried a powerful enchantment. Which was not being actively maintaied. It would kill anyone who tried to remove it but one he allowed.

Then she stepped forward. She grasped him by the shoulders, and pulled him to his feet, and embraced him."Jacyn."

Jacyn returned her hug, and closed his eyes for a moment."Mother."

Brand kept tugging on his arm, but at last, Ander stopped. Brand turned to face him, and said,"What are you doing? We have to get to Queen's City!"

Ander shook his head."I'll go. You stay here. Try to find out whatever you can."

Brand shook his head."I won't let you walk all the way to the City by yourself!"

Ander grinned."Who said anything about walking?" He shrugged out of the heavy cloak, and blessed his foresight of wearing dark clothes underneath. He shook his wings out, feeling the feathers align. He looked impressive, and Brand said,"Oh. Right. Well, safe journey, Ander. May we meet again with Master Jacyn at our side."

Ander nodded, and took a few steps away from him. He raised his wings as high as he could, then drove them down with all his might.

He shot into the air. He flapped his wings akwardly, and almost fell, then straightened and shot off towards Queen's City, following the road, going three times as fast as any horse.

Brand was quickly out of sight, but he assumed that he was heading back to the village. He faced the south, and shot off again, suddenly realizing how incredibly awesome it was to fly. He dove, twisted, and climbed, amazed at his speed and dexterity. He quickly passed the spot they'd camped at on thier fifth day. At this rate, he would be in the city in less than two days.

He was going for more than an hour, when he realized that his shoulders and wings felt hot, and slightly stiff. He angled towards the ground, slowly spiraling. He then dove, testing his new skill. Ten feet from the ground, he flared his wings out, catching the air, and almost stopping his descent, after a fifty foot dive!

He landed, and shook his wings out to cool them off. He massaged his shoulders, and winced at how tender the muscles were. He reasoned that they would harden with exercise.

Ander hadn't thought to grab a blanket, and it would have slowed him anyway. He streched out on the ground, and shivered. Then he had a thought that had him bolt upright. Fire. Couldn't he start a fire with magic? How did fire work? In his past life, he had never had to start a fire. He knew that they required a certain temperature to catch on wood.

Closing his eyes, he began to sing softly. He soon became aware of the ground in front of him growing hotter.

And hotter. It grew so hot he couldn't touch it. Then, the ground itself burst into flames. He sprang to his feet, and quickly gathered branches from a nearby pile he remembered building when they had left. He fed the fire, and then sat back to enjoy it's warmth.

He sat there for a few minutes when he became aware of a noise. Hooves. On the road. He looked, but didn't see anything. He remembered that the Council had told him that Prodigeous had better senses than regular people. Those hooves could be a mile down the road.

They weren't. Just around the bend, a few hundred feet away. Three horses cantered into view, three men seated on thier backs. They weren't armed, at least not openly. They seemed happy to see his fire. That was understandable. But Jacyn had warned them of anyone traveling this road. Thieves and highwaymen roamed unchecked.

They rode into the cleared, and the leader raised a hand in greeting. He seemed suprised by Ander's presence. But he hadn't seen his wings yet. At the first sign of the hooves, he had folded them in tightly. He doubted that anyone would notice them against the black fabric of his shirt. He inclined his head in return.

They dismounted, and the leader sat across the fire."Good evening, traveler. Mind a little company tonight?"

Ander smiled politely."I don't mind. I'm leaving soon anyway. Urgent bussiness, all that."

The men smiled in return. The other two seated themselves, and the leader took out a sastchel of food."Since you started the fire, the least we can offer is some of our food. You don't look like you have any."

Ander shook his head."I don't. And thank you, but no. I really need to leave soon. I'll have food when I get to my destination." He saw no need to tell these men that he was a magic user. He sat back, and half closed his eyes.

The man in the middle turned to converse with one of his companions in a quiet voice."Not yet. Wait a minute longer. I'll give you the signal."

Ander leaned forward."What was that?"

The man smiled again."Oh, he just asked if we could sleep in a little in the morning." He lied with an easy candence. If Ander hadn't heard him clearly, he would have believed him.

Ander tilted his head to one side. He was already composing a spell in his head. He rose, and by the looks on thier faces, they were slightly suprised, and slightly frustrated."I need to go. Feel free to keep my fire. Good night." He turned and started walking down the road.

"Now, hold on there!" The leader had gotten to his feet."You can't travel on foot in this country! There are robbers all over these woods!"

Ander nodded,"Indeed there are. It's almost like the cat warning mice that there are cats about. If you get my meaning."

The man did. But he kept his face pleasant."I'm insulted, young sir. I, a robber? If I were, I would dress better." His hand moved ever so slowly towards his pocket. The other two had gotten to thier feet.

Ander knew he had to act now. With a quick, sharp note, he sang. The fire exploded in sparks. The two standing near it caught fire at once and started rolling on the ground, screaming. The last whipped a small dart from his pocket.

Ander turned to run. He didn't want to kill them. He felt a small prick in his upper arm, and looked down. The small dart stuck out, about an inch deep. Funny. He didn't feel any different.

Then he noticed his feet fumbling. He tripped over his own feet, and crashed to the ground. Frantically, he thought of the poison coursing through his viens, and sang again, this time to expel the toxin. The dart worked it's way out, and fell to the ground. Then blood started to flow. He let it.

Then the man was there. He placed a foot on Ander's back. Ander struggled, trying to turn over and use his feet to kick the man. The man dug his heel into Ander's back."Hurry, you idiots! He's resisting the sleeping poison!"

Ander sang again, but his mind was in a fog. Without meaning to, he caused a bright flash in the sky. It went dark, and they closed in.

Jacyn looked into his mother's face. Of course, he hadn't seen her since he was seven. Still, he remembered her clearly. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to speak.

He turned away from her.

She growled in anger, and grabbed his shoulder. Wrenching him back around, she slapped him across the face. He staggered back, suprised by the force she'd put into the blow. She must have increased her physical strength with magic.

She spoke in a low melodic voice."You turned on me once, Jacyn. Do not do so again. I am still your mother."

Jacyn snorted."Yes, _Mother_. I suppose I'm just supposed to overlook all the experiments. All of the tests to make me _stronger._ All of the pain. Half of my memoeries of you are when I was recovering from one of your spells. And then, you tried to force me to kill your enemies. I was six years old! Six! What kind of mother do you think you are? Certainly not the kind worthy of _love._"

She didn't slap him this time. She drew back her hand, and punched him as hard as she could in the face. He tried to avoid the blow. He'd been expecting it. But it still caught him half force in the mouth. Blood filled his mouth, and he talked through it."That was harder than the last time you hit me, when I was _seven. _I suppose I'm a big boy now, aren't I _mother?"_

She was about to punch him again, but then a voice shouted,"Mistress! We've found a magic user snooping around the village!"

She looked away from him, and said,"Friends of yours, son?" She nodded to one of the guards, and he left the room. She turned to look at him again."I really didn't mean to hit you that hard. Would you show me your Prodigy?"

Jacyn shook his head."No. I've had enough, mother. Leave me alone."

She smiled."I am your mother, and I am also second in command to the Empress. You will do as I say." She twitched a hand, and his robe was ripped off. He kept his Prodigy features hidden, knowing why she wanted to see them.

She sighed. Another flick of her fingers, and he was lifted into the air, spread eagled. Slowly, and not of his own volition, his huge white wings unfurled, spreading across the room for all to see.

Ander groaned. He tried to sit up, and open his eyes. His body did not cooperate. His eyes felt like they were glued shut.. His limbs were numb. He heard people moving nearby, but he didn't know who they were.

Then, he felt his mouth open, and a sour taste filled his mouth. He gagged, but he couldn't stop. Whatever it was trickled down his throat.

Suddenly, the numb feeling faded. He could move his arms, but the tingled like they were asleep. He opened his eyes, and looked around.

He was in a small room, a man wearing a brown cloak sat beside him, nearly blending into the walls behind him. He was armed with a dagger, and from what Ander could see of his face, he looked amused.

Ander tried to rise, but he gasped when the feeling of being stabbed by hundreds of needles intensified. He fell back, and looked at the man, trying to speak.

The man laughed."Not so tough now, are you? That was some trick, with the fire. How did you do it?"

Ander closed his eyes._ Say nothing. Mabye if he thinks I won't talk, he'll stop asking._

The man didn't."If you don't like that question, I have several more. For instance, Why do you have wings? I've never seen a human with wings before."

Ander tried to frame a spell, but couldn't concentrate. The man leaned forward, and said,"You have two choices, boy. Either you talk, or I hand you over to my men, and you'll wish you had answered my questions."

Ander glared at him, and said in a hoarse voice,"Say I don't want to answer your questions? How's this for you? Why do you have a head? Surely there's nothing inside worth renting that space."

The man's face blackened. He pulled out his knife, and said,"What was that?"

Ander quickly composed his spell. He sang, sharp and peircing. The man fell back, clutching at his chest. He fell to the floor, thrashing. Still Ander sang. He climbed, and the man started screaming. For help, for Ander to stop, and just to scream.

Ander could hear people in the hall. His voice rose, until he was screaming himself, and the man went limp, his heart stopped.

Ander shot out of the bed, and sang again. As he did, he leapt at the window. The glass shattered easily, and he rolled as he fell, landing on his feet. Just as he landed, the building collapsed. He haerd screams from inside, and he ran. His legs were slightly unsteady, so he jumped into the air and flew. As he rose he looked back.

Several dust covered forms were crawling out of the reckage. The building had once been a way station, for travelers. It stood alone, save for a stable, in the vast forest.

From this hieght, he could see Queen's City on the horizon. Working his wings as fast as he could, he shot like an arrow across the sky. In a few minutes, he was over the clearing where Master Jacyn had given them thier travel cloaks. He was then over the gates, and then over the city. He angled downward, and aimed for the open building where he'd first talked with Jacyn. He landed akwardly, and suprised a Master, who had been standing beside one of the windows.

The Master ran over, and helped Ander to his feet. He didn't speak, but Ander knew that he would have to. He gasped for breath. That flight had taken it away."Master . . . Jacyn . . . Merkstrait . . . Council of Five!"

The Master didn't speak, but he grabbed Ander's arm and dragged Ander after him at a brisk pace. They passed a few people, all of whom stared at Ander's wings, which he hadn't folded. They nearly ran up the great marble steps into the palace, and then they _did_ run through the corridors. They arrived at the Council Chamber in less than two minutes. The Master knocked, and shoved Ander through.

The Council was present, all of it's members. Ander almost had his breath back, but he didn't want to waste time."Master . . . Jacyn . . .-"

"Hold, Prodigeous. Regain your coherency. Recover. We will wait." The voice was the woman's. He did as she ordered, regaining his breath. When he could speak without gasping, he said,"Master Jacyn was captured by a group of some kind of monster. Dead people, I think."

The Council started muttering at this. At last, a male voice commanded,"Hush! Where was this, Ander?"

Ander noticed the use of his name."In the village of Merkstrait. I flew here from there, leaving Brand to scout arround, to see if he could find out more. Master Jacyn destroyed a few of them, but then he ordered us to leave him and come to you."

The Council moved uncomfortably. The woman spoke."We must go at once. Not since the war have the-"

"No! We cannot interfere! You know what happened last time, Jocelyn!"

"William! You know what would happen if Jacyn is dead! A Prodigeous, dead? There are only so many! Do not be so foolish-"

"Quiet! All of you! Now, to a vote. Shall we ourselves become involved?" This from the man seated center.

The woman, Jocelyn, said,"We must."

The man she'd argued with, Willaim,"Certainly not! Jacyn knew the risks!"

The man in the center."I must agree with Jocelyn. Jacyn is the most aspiring candidate for the Council when I am gone."

Another man,"Master Damon! Surely not! Surely there are others!"

Damon responded calmly."No, Jacob. We are the Council, and we must be strong. Master Jacyn is the strongest of the Masters, besides us."

William raised his voice,"That is why he should be able to take care of himself!"

The last man, the one seated beside Damon, shouted him down,"Stop with your high mindedness, William! You always think only of yourself! The Council must think of the whole Order!"

William rose from his seat."Do not reprimand me, Sebastian! I always think of the Order! If we send others, they may die as well! We must think of the Order before Master Jacyn!"

Master Damon spoke, drowning out thier argument."Enough. We will leave within the hour. Prepare your strongest spells. We must stamp out this order. This Scoin of Terinthia."

The others nodded, all but William."If that is so, why did we just now become aware of it? We cast scrying spells to determine threats against the Order!"

Damon did not argue."Now is not the time for thought, William. Now is the time for action." He rose."Ander. You have responded well to this. Return to your room, and we will prepare ourselves. You will accompany us to Merkstait. We leave in less than an hour. Meet us in the entry Hall as fast as you can after you prepare."

Ander ignored the suprised noises of three of the Council of Five. Only the woman did not react. Ander left the room, bowing on his way. He ran to his quarters, this time remembering to tuck in his wings. He arrived, and grabbed very few things. A knife, an extra set of clothes. He also grabbed a small bag that Master Jacyn had given him, with instructions to open only in great need.

These things gathered, he ran from the room. He dashed through deserted halls, and skidded to a stop at the top of the great staircase before he tumbled down it. He hurried, and saw the five black and red cloaked figures, all standing at apparent ease.

He stopped, and bowed. He couldn't tell them apart. But one of the gestured, and Ander walked closer to him. Or her. Then the Master pulled him closer, and hissed,"We will be traveling by magic. This spell will transport us to Merkstrait. It may be unsettling. You may wish to brace yourself."

Ander nodded, and took a deep breath. One of the Masters started to gesture with his arms. Then, the world fell away.

"Do you know this boy, my son?" Jacyn's mother, her name was actually Pandora, asked in a hard voice.

Jacyn fought to open his eyes. After she had forced him to reviel his wings, she had hurt him, and used magic to experiment on him. He felt like shit. Like someone had ridden a horse over him. Sadly, he spoke from experience.

Pandora held Brand by the arm, which she had viciously twisted behind his back. He had tears in his eyes, likely from this treatment. Knowing that she would likely kill him to hurt Jacyn, he shook his head, hoping she would only lock him up.

Pandora smiled."Ah, my son. You always were a terrible liar. If he truly does not know you, then he is of no use to me." She raised a hand, and Brand screamed, his free hand flying to his stomach.

Jacyn yelled incoherently. He surged off the floor, and tackled them both. Pandora lightly avoided him, and he slammed into Brand. Rolling in midair, he hit the floor. In the next instant, he had Brand behind his back. But he couldn't use magic in the presence of that damn artifact.

Pandora smiled."I thought so. I wasn't sure, but I thought so. He is Prodigeous. He will make an excellent toy, don't you think, my son?"

He could feel Brand's eyes boring into his back. Brand spoke, in a shaking voice."Son? What is she saying, Master?"

Jacyn wanted to smack him. Pandora's eyes brightened. He backed away from her, keeping Brand pressed behind him. He tried to convey a threat with his eyes, glaring at his mother, while he said,"She didn't need to know that. Yes, Brand, this is my mother, Pandora. And, before she decides to destroy your faith in me again, I supposed I'd better tell you that her own mother is the Empress Terithia herself. Terinthia is my grandmother."

Brand stiffened, and tried to get away from Jacyn. Jacyn backed him into a wall."Don't be an idiot. I'm your only chance of survival."

Pandora was nearly purring."Why don't you tell him why you never mentioned your family?"

Jacyn glared at her."Would you be proud of a mother that would kill her own husband, her nursemaid, and try to kill her son?" He knew her answer even before she spoke. He was asking the wrong person.

"Yes."

Jacyn kept Brand behind him. Pandora smiled again."I shall show my new apprentice why he should not think of betrayal." She moved forward, and Jacyn leapt at her in a futile attempt to protect Brand.

Pandora caught him by the throat and held him in midair. She smiled, and said,"Of course, you cannot be killed by such mundane methods, my son. Niether, of course, can I. Now, cool your temper. I have a new apprentice to initiate."

Jacyn felt a thrill of fear. Brand had never gone through the Rite of Immortality. In fact, there were only three alive who had. He had, at the age of three. His mother had after she had been chased from Terithia's palace. And so had his grandmother.

Of course, there was no such thing as true immortality. All must die. This spell, this ritual, protected against any non magical death. As a result, one would never die of old age, never die by the sword, never by any means of a normal person.

But the rite itself was dangerous. Not all could survive it. Jacyn had nearly died. The rite consisted of three powerful rituals, which when completed, sealed the invulnerability. Pandora would perform this rite on Brand.

The first ritual was very simple. The person had to be killed in a violent, mundane way. Then, by a powerul magic user, revived. This was one of very few exceptions to the law of death. Then, the second ritual, the person had to die painlessly. Last ritual, the person had to die by magic. Then, when the person was revived for the last time, they would be invulnerable.

Pandora waved her arms, and Jacyn was lifted, and thrown. He hit a wall with enough power to knock the wind clean out of him. He felt invisible bonds clamp down on his legs and arms, and knew he would be able to do nothing. He knew that he woould be forced to watch, as his Apprentice died, and was resurrected, by his mother, and forced to kill him. Probably.

Pandora movec leasurely forward. Jacyn found that he could speak."Brand! You must make sure you die painfull the second time! It will ruin the Rite! You must-"

Pandora had pointed at him, and he felt a vice tight band clamp around his mouth, sealing it shut. She turned back to Brand, and said,"If you survive, you will be immortal. Stand still." She gestured again, this time only opening her fist, then closing it. A long silver sword appeared in her grasp.

She twirled it with a flourish, then drove it into Brand's abdomen. He cried out, and fell backards. She stepped with him, driving the sword deeper, and and twisting it, making sure it was painful.

Blood staining his lips, Brand coughed a few times, then stopped breathing. This, Jacyn knew, was the most delicate part of the Rite. If Brand wasn't strong enough, he would remain dead. Pandora swept her arms over his body in complicated patterns and displays.

Brand gasped, and sat straight up, staring straight ahead. He did not move, until Pandora moved again. Jacyn tried to shout, but Pandora's spell had worked well. He still couldn't speak.

Pandora swept her hands over Brand's body, and he fell back without a sound, dying painlessly. Jacyn sagged. There was no way to negate the rest of the Rite, unless Brand died mundanely in the last ritual.

Once again, Pandora revived him. He reacted as before, staring, until she stabbed a finger at him, killing him instantly.

Then, Jacyn heard a noise like an explosion. Men screamed outside the room, and Pandora abandoned her work. She started towards the door, then went gastly pale. She darted over, grabbed an old looking statuette from a low table, and then dashed over to Brand's body. She grabbed it, and swung her arm in a wide, circullar movement, and both she and Brand's body vanished, taking the statuette with them.

Seconds later, one of Pandora's acolytes burst into the room. He looked at Jacyn, then smiled, and began swaying to and fro. Then a shadow appeared behind him, and then a sound filled the room, bitter and cold, which made Jacyn want to clap his hands over his ears.

The man went pale, then fell over with a gasp. Ander stoon behind him, and he took one look at Jacyn, and whooped with joy. He crossed the room in an instant, and extended a hand. Jacyn shook his head, and gestured with his bound hands at his mouth.

Ander understood at once. He sang again in a stern tone, and Jacyn felt the bonds fall off him at once. He was astounded. An Apprentice, able to best Pandora's magic, and she was as powerful as Jacyn.

He got to his feet, and then stared as four of the Council of Five entered he room. They exuded an air of grief, and Jacyn asked quietly,"Where is the Fifth?"

The center Master, Damon, shook his head."A powerful woman destroyed him. We will mourn Jacob later. Now, we must know. Who was your abductor?"

Jacyn looked down."Her name is Pandora. She is the most accomplished necromancer since Terinthia herself. She would be. Pandora is Terinthia's seventh daughter. And she is also my mother."

Damon didn't speak for a long time, and when he did, his voice was breathless."How?"

Jacyn knew better than to lie."She escaped from you with her nursemaid, a hundred years ago. She is sworn to releasing her mother, and she will do anything to accomplish that. She says that Terinthia is still alive, and that she is still strong. Ander, could you go look for Brand?"

Ander nodded, and left he room. Damon glanced at Jacyn questioningly.

Jacyn took a deep breath."Both my mother and grandmother have undergone the Rite of Immortality. Just before you arrived, she performed the Rite on Brand. He is invulnerable to mundane death. I fear she has very great plans for him."

Damon cocked his head, and pulled back his hood, staring Jacyn in the eye."You were her child. Did she also perform this Rite on you as well?"

Jacyn nodded."When I was three, she performed the Rite. She wanted to use me to destroy the Council of Five, but I escaped, and you took me in. Since then, I've hoped she was dead, but I had guessed she would perform the Rite on herself."

Damon looked him in the eye, like he was looking into his soul."And are you still loyal to your family?" His hand reached surreptiously towards his pocket.

Jacyn shook his hea as firmly as he could."No . . . ." He hesitated."But perhap's I _should _be?" He looked up, and cocked his head sideways.

One of the Council members, the woman, hissed, but Damon had seen his meaning."Are you capable of this deciet?"

Jacyn nodded."Yes, but it will be difficult. She is very powerful. More than me, mabye as powerful as you."

Damon nodded thoughtfully."It would take the entire Council to destroy her." He turned, but Jacyn called back, saying,"She is much like Terinthia. She will not die easily. You will need her true name." Jacyn knew, of course, that the only way to destroy so powerful a magic user, was to wield thier true name, and by so doing, rend them temporarily powerless.

Damon nodded again."And what is her name?"

Jacyn shook his head hopelessly."I don't know. She wouldn't tell anyone. But it has to be written down somewhere, for it to be potent. I shall look for it." He picked up his cloak, and pulled it on. At that moment, Ander came in.

The boy was slightly breathless."I couldn't find him, but I know where he is. I cast a finding spell, and it showed me that he's in a small, dark room, and he was sleeping. I think I can find him with another spell."

Damon looked flabbergasted."You . . . cast a finding spell . . . at your age?"

Ander nodded, suddenly doubtful."Shouldn't I have, Master? I mean, I had to find Brand, so I thought that I could use magic, so I decided to experiment. At first, I didn't see anything, then I used something he'd touched. It was my shirt, he touched it when we escaped. So I cast it again, and that's what I found!"

Jacyn's law had dropped. He quickly composed himself."Thank you, Ander. Now, if you will excuse us-"

"No. I have something for your Apprentice to do, Jacyn." It was the woman, Jocelyn, who spoke now."He shows great potential. I believe he will do fine on the Parliament's mission."

Damon looked at Ander, and said,"Perhaps, but I think we should let Jacyn decide. Just before your Apprentice arrived with the news of your capture, Jacyn, we had recieved a missive from the Parliament. They have requested a Master to accompany thier diplomat to the city state of Andrast, for protection and intimidation. I believe we should send Ander."

Jacyn turned away, thinking hard. Of course, Ander would do fine on such a mission. He'd done several such missions himself, and had never even been in danger. But Andrast . . . ."Andrast is currently at war with Tehican, is it not?" Jacyn asked, refering to another city state further down the coast.

Damon nodded."It is, but I do not think they will be in any danger. After all, Ander will appear as a Master."

Jacyn agreed."True."


	6. Andrast

Andrast

Ander shifted in the long black cloak. Across from him, Jacyn cleared his throat."Sit still. You must remain stioc. The Parliament will look for any reason to deny you. You must be strong. Especially since you are to be escorting the Lady Rachel."

Lady Rachel was the Prime Minister's daughter. She had volunteered for the diplomatic mission because it would show solidity, and thier support for Andrast. Ander couldn't believe they would let her go to a city at war.

Then, an aide walked into the lobby."Lords, the Parliament will see you now." He held the door, and they walkied into the cavernous Parliament Hall.

The Parliament was in full session. All twenty Lords sat in thier gilt seats, with the various other govenors, magistrates, and ministers. The Prime Minister sat in the center of the array. He sat behind a large desk on a raised platform, with two lords seated beside him on either side. He sat in a high backed chair, wearing the robes of his office. They were long and luxurious, a deep red, bordered in green and blue, with the symbol of Parliament stitched in gold across his chest and back.

The entire Parliament stared at them as they entered. Ander's wings itched, and he longed to just run out of the huge Palace, and take to the open sky. But he knew he had to stay. With a barely audible sigh, he sat in one of several chairs facing the Parliament. Since he was considered of equal rank with all those present, he did not bow. Niether did Jacyn, who sat next to him.

The man seated to the right of the Prime Minister, a man Ander recognized as the Speaker of the House, cleared his throat, and announced,"Welcome to the Parliament, Masters. We will now discuss the next item of bussiness, the diplomatic mission to Andrast, made by Lady Rachel, and Master Ander. This is correct?"

Jacyn did not move."It is." Was all he said.

The Speaker nodded, and said,"There have been three complaints filed to the Parliament by prominent members of the Parlaiment. We will hear them, then vote upon the matter." He shuffeled around the papers on his desk, and continued."The first complaint has been filed by the Lord Joshua of Fillholme." He named the southern city with an almost reverance. It was the third largest in the entire country."He claims that the voyage and mission can not be carried out by the Lady."

Ander almost sighed again. He remembered Jacyn telling him all about the members of Parliament. Lord Joshua had a notorious romance with Lady Rachel, although she was only seventeen. Jacyn nodded politely."Complaint noted. Continue."

The Speaker shuffeled some more, then said,"The second complaint was filed by Lady Yozelle, of Queen's City. She cliams that only one of the Masters on the Council of Five may escort one so important as the Lady Rachel."

Jacyn still did not rise. Ander wondered when he would. The Parliament was insulting the Order."Complaint noted. Continue."

This time, there was a murmur through the Parliament. A woman rose, and shouted,"Permission to speak, Prime Minister?"

The Prime Minister nodded."Permission granted, Lady Yozelle."

The Lady was dressed extravagantly. She wore a long gown, and was festooned with jewelry. She was wearing too much makeup, and with Ander's sensitive Prodigeous senses, he could smell her perfume from where she sat in the fifth row up. She used far too much.

"This is an insult! How dare this commoner speak to us this way? I think that the Masters have grown over thier bounds." She sat with a huff and a self satisfied, smug little smile.

Jacyn did not react."The next complaint, Speaker."

Lady Yozelle's smile turned to a furious glare, but she dared not interrupt. The Speaker nodded, and said,"The last complaint was filed by the Lord Gilbert of Tehican. He claims that it is unsafe for the Lady to be in either of thier noble cities."

At last, Jacyn got to his feet. Ander did not, showing indifference. Jacyn said nothing for a moment, then he said,"I will first adress these complaints. The Order of Masters does not allow complaints, nor does it care for them. All are waved aside. And as for you, Lady Yozelle, you have insulted a Master. You are under arrest, and will have your titles and wealth striped from you. That will be all. Master Ander will meet Lady Rachel in the courtyard, and they will complete thier mission."He turned on his heel, and walked out of the Parliament Hall. Ander got lazily to his feet and followed.

They didn't stop until they arrived at the courtyard. They found the lady's escort already waiting, and all of the men bowed when they entered. They were outfitted in the livery of the nation of Endon, ruled by the Parliament. They bowed a second time as Lady Rachel walked in, already escorted by two maids. They had been talking before they entered, but they quieted when they saw the two intimidating black figures. The maids bowed to Ander and Jacyn, then turned to thier mounts.

A soldier moved to help Lady Rachel into her saddle, but she ignored him, vaulting into the saddle herself. The movement betrayed years in the saddle.

Jacyn stepped forward."Before you leave, I have orders from the Council of Five. These rules I give you are not to be broken. Do so, and Master Ander will punish you as he sees fit. Rule one, no one will approuch either Lady Rachel or Master Ander without the permission of Master Ander. Rule two, all of you will obey Master Ander as you would your commanding officer. Failure to observe either of these rules is punishable by death.

"Rule three, you will address Master Ander as Master, or sir. Nothing else. Am I clear?"

Several of the men grumbled at being treated like children. Master Jacyn looked at them from under his cloak."You will answer every question from either Master Ander or Lady Rachel clearly and truthfully, understood?"

This time, a loud chorus of,"Yes sir!" Rang through the courtyard. Jacyn nodded, and turned to Ander."Good fortune, Ander." He spoke telipathically, and Ander replied in kind,"And you as well, Master."

When Ander returned, he found everyone in the saddle, the maids sitting side-saddle, thier shirts arranged daintily. They were obviously trying to set an example for the lady, but she ignored them, sitting in the saddle like a man, her skirts fanning on either side.

The guard captain nodded to Ander, and said,"If you are ready, Master, we will depart."

Ander nodded curtly, and vualted into the saddle of the horse he'd been given. He nodded to the captain, and he shouted,"Stations!"

The men arranged themselves so that three rode in front, and another three behind. The lady rode in the middle, on either side rode her maids, while Ander rode directly to her left. They rode at a liesurely pace, and Ander heard the lady sigh in frustration at thier deliberate slowness. She was obviously annoyed that they were treating her so protectively.

They only rode for a few hours when they came to the first checkpoint. It was a large clearing in the forest, with a spring bubbling out of a circle of rocks, and another circle for a fire. The men dismounted, and three of them set about gathering wood for a fire. Two more began setting up the lady's tent. The last came forward to aid the lady in dismounting.

Ander remembered Jacyn's orders. Let none approuch the lady, no matter thier intent, without his permission. The guard seemed to not notice him, perhaps deliberately. Ander moved so fast, magic fueling his speed, that the guard had no time to react. One second, he was walking towards the lady, the next, a formidible black figure barred his path.

Ander didn't speak, just stood between the man and the lady. The other guards drifted over to watch. The guard hesitated, then said,"I am to assist her Grace, Master."

Ander answered in a flat tone."You will not approuch the lady without asking me first. You will not forget this again, because if you do, I will be forced to punish you. And anyone else who disobeys me. I am in charge here, and you will do as I tell you. Am I clear?"

One of the other guards snorted."Thinks he can order us around. Stuck up Masters, think they're better than everyone else. Just because of thier 'magic'. I'd believe my six year old daughter has more magic than the lot of them. Ever seen one use it? Teach him a lesson, Gramson."

The guard, Gramson, grinned, and took a confident step forward. Ander did the same, so that they were barely two feet apart. The other guards laughed."Thinks he's better than us, you see? Well, he'll learn. Why don't you help him, Gramson?"

Gramson sneered, and went to shove Ander. Ander decided that the charade was over. He whipped out a knife, kicked Gramson in the side of his leg, right at the knee. Gramson's leg buckled, and Ander siezed his arm, pulling him around, and pressing the knife blade to the man's throat. This was over in less than two seconds. The guard's grins hadn't even faded yet.

Slowly, they back away. Gramson had gone still, and was breathing heavily. Ander spoke, loud and clear."Mabye I wasn't clear. I said I was in charge, and I meant it. The next man who disobeys me, dies. No matter how badly. If you so much as sneeze when I tell you not to, you die. Now, get back on your horses."

The guard captain unfroze."Sir? We've got orders from the Prime Minister himself to stop at every checkpoint for the night."

Ander nodded."And I told you to move on. We will arrive when I say, not the Prime Minister. If we go on at this rate, we'll get there in two weeks. We will arrive in four days."

The guards looked more mutinous at this. They had been expecting to travel lightly, since the Lady Rachel was along. They didn't want to go any faster than they had expected.

The guard captain looked like he wanted to object. Ander spoke before he could."Lady Rachel. Do you wish to stop now, or shall we press on?"

The lady grinned. She had no doubt wanted to step ut thier pace, but her father had ordered these men to travel lightly. Ander had given her an opportunity to make up her own mind."I am of the opinion that we should arrive as soon as possible, Master Ander."

Ander tried not to react to the way he felt as she said his name. He jumped back into the saddle, and the guards grudgingly repacked everything. They moved on, riding at a blistering pace. At each checkpoint they passed, the guards expected the 'stuck up Master' to order a halt. Ander didn't. He waited for them to stop expecting it. It was almost dark when he finally stopped them. He ordered two men to water the horses, another two to start the fire, and the last two he ordered to set the lady's tent. The two maids dismounted, and Ander said,"You two may attend your lady."

Ander himself assisted the men with the fire. They appeared dubious, as if expecting him to start it with magic. He didn't. While he'd traveled with Jacyn, it had been his duty to start the fires, and Brand's to gather the wood.

Ander pulled steel and flint from his robe, and struck it a few times, rearranged the tinder, then stuck it again. The fire caught, and he blew on it for a few seconds, then he left the men to get it burning well.

The others had completed thier tasks. The men watering the horses had tethered them to a rope streched between two trees, and had then pulled out packets of meat. One of them pulled a pot from his saddlebags, and then filled it with water. He put several peices of dried meat into this, then a few sprinkles of salt, then set it over the fire.

The maids had ushered the lady into her tent, and had returned while she ate. They sat with the guards, and Ander went to the tent."My lady?"

There was a pause, then Rachel's voice said,"Yes, Master?"

Ander paused himself, then asked,"May I enter?"

There was movement within, then she answered,"Yes, Master."

Ander entered the tent. It had been furnished with a folding cot, which had been on the last horse, the pack horse. There was a folding chair, in which Rachel was sitting, and a small folding table as well. A meal of pasties, white bread, and fruit was laid out, half eaten. Lady Rachel was reading a book, and wearing what looked to be a night dress. She was as beautiful as ever, and Ander caught his breath before saying,"With your permission, My lady, I will sleep in here at night. It will be safer for you, and will allow me to do my duty as your protector."

Rachel smiled, and said."Of course, Master Ander. I will feel safer with you so close." She dropped her eyes again to her book, and Ander felt it safe to eat. He reached into his robes again, and pulled out a small packed that was filled with jerky. He pulled some out, and removed his hood.

He wsa fully aware of Rachel's eyes on him, but he did his best to ignore her. He ate, keeping his eyes of the far wall. When he was done, he replaced the packed in his robes, and pulled his hood back up.

Only then did Rachel speak. There was suprise in her voice."You are rather young to be a Master, Ander." She marked her place with a stip of silk, and placed the book on the table.

Ander did not respond for a moment, then said,"The ways of our Order are our own, lady." He spread his blanket out near the entrance of the tent, then said,"I'm going to place certain enchantments around this tent. Anyone who comes within three feet of it will be rendered unconcious until the sunlight touches them."

Rachel nodded, her eyes wide. Ander composed his thoughts, considered the spell, and sang softly. He looked over while he was singing, and saw Rachel swaying back and forth to the unpredictable melody. He felt a feeling of content spread over him, and knew the spell was active. He lay back on his blanket, and said,"Good night, lady."

She responded, and went to her own cot. She was still, and her breathing became even. He waited for a few more minutes, then sang again, casting a spell that would wake him in anyone came within five feet of the tent. No harm in being cautious. Only then did he fall asleep.

He was woken only once during the night. He cast another spell to ascretain who was caught in his trap, found it was one of the guards, and left him there. He had gone back to sleep.

He woke again about ten minutes till full sunrise. He made sure he was decent for a Master, then went outside. As he had suspected, all of the guards were clustered around another of thier number. It was the youngest of the guards, lying unconcious. The captain looked at Ander and said,"What happened?"

Ander did not answer, only waiting. At last, the sun was up, and it's light fell on the hapless guard. He stirred, then pushed himself imto a sitting position. He looked around, dazed, and asked,"What's going on? Why ain't I in bed?"

Ander smiled in his hood."This is what happens to anyone who tries to outsmart me. You tried to sneak into the lady's tent last night. When you got too close, you were struck unconcious. I had cast powerful protective enchantments around the lady's tent. You are lucky it wasn't a spell that would kill. Next time, it will be. The next time, anyone who gets too close to this tent after sunset will die instantly."

The men stared at him with looks of awe. Ander cleared his throat."As soon as the lady wakes and is prepared, we leave. Prepare to depart." He didn't wait for them to move, he turned and disappeared into the tent. He once again concentrated, and sang. He canceled the spell, and the one to wake him. It would tire him to keep it active.

He turned to find the lady watching him. She didn't speak, and he turned and walked out of the tent. The men had already packed away thier blankets, and saddled the horses. The ladt emerged a few minutes later, now dressed in light pants and a loose shirt. Her maids eyed her with disapproval, but didn't dare to speak. The lady took her mount by the reins, and mounted with the same ease she had shown before.

Ander mounted, and then ordered them to move out. They rode slightly less hard than the day before, and arrived at another checkpoint in a gfew hours. None of the guards even glanced at it. Ander admired thier wisdom.

They passed another four checkpoints before he was satisfied, then they again dismounted. Ander gave the same orders as before, but helped with the horses this time. He helped unsaddled them, then led two to the creek that ran through the clearing. After they had drunk thier fill, he tethered them to another rope, and went to the lady's tent again.

Again, he knocked. The lady asked who it was, and he answer,"Master Ander." She replied,"Enter, Master."

He did, and again found her sitting at her table, a half eaten ,eal before her. She was again perusing her book, and she set it down to finish her meal.

Ander took out his own food, removed his hood, and ate, still aware of her eyes following his every move. He again replaced his hood when he'd finished, and then said,"I will be placing another enchantment tonight, my lady. If you will excuse me," He closed his eyes, and devised a spell that would cause unbearable pain if anyone came close to the tent. When he was sure it was right, he sang. He felt the lady stop moving, and waited until he was done with his spell before looking at her.

She was looking at him, specutively. She hesitated, then said, "Ander? Will you sing to me?"

Ander stared at her in suprise."Sing?"

"Isn't that what you were just doing? Singing?"

Ander floundered for a moment, then said,"No. I was using magic. I can't sing otherwise."

She looked into his eyes, pleading with her own."Please?"

Ander hesitated for a moment longer, then composed a spell for contentment. He paused again, studying her, then sang softly. He saw the spell take effect, and still sang, knowing it would calm her, and make her drowsy. He wove that into the spell, and it became a sort of lullaby, unbearably sweet, and powerful. Her eyes began to close, and he stopped abruptly.

She looked somewhat confused, then said,"That was . . . beautiful, Ander. If you'll excuse me, I will retire." She turned away, and sat on her cot, still looking bewildered, and slightly hurt. Ander didn't stop to ponder her reaction, but instead wrapped himself in his blanket, and fell asleep.

Ander woke much the same as the day before. He walked outside, and found most of the guards bent over another man. This one wasn't a guard, but seemed to be in pain.

Ander acted quickly. The sun would be up any second. He thought hard, then sang, weaving a net of magic around the man. He stopped moving, for he'd been rocking back and forth. The sun touched him, and he calmed down. Then he looked up at the tall Master, and tried to move again. He couldn't.

And waved at two of the guards."Haul him to his feet. I want to question him." They hesitated, then did as he asked. Ander removed the spell from the man's mouth, and asked,"Who are you?"

The man spat at his feet. He stared into the shadows under Ander's hood, and said,"Wouldn't you like to know, 'Master'?"

Ander frowned. He thought for a second, then sang, casting a spell that would tell him whenever someone was lying to him. He repeated his question.

The man smiled."I was just goin' to the market in Andrast, Master. No shame in that, is there. He seemed to be trying to move his hand. Ander went still."Are you a magic user?" He would have known without the lying spell that the whole market bit was a sham.

The man had also gone pale. He cleared his throat a few times, then cried, No, Master! I'm no magic user!" Once again, the man was lying.

Ander knew he couldn't let the man live. He though quickly for a way to kill him mercifully, but came up with only stopping his heart. Which would actually be quite painful.

Ander sang, the sound sharp and loud. Then it strangled down to a hiss. The man gasped, and his eyes went wide. He tried to form a spell that would save himself, but he couldn't move his hands. He went limp.

Ander felt disgusted with himself."Drop him. He's dead."

The guards dropped him quickly. They then made a sign against evil. Ander ignored them, then said,"Search him. There may be something that will tell me who he is."

"You mean there may be something to tell _us_ who he is, I hope Master?" Rachel had emerged from the tent. She was dressed as she had been the day before, in loose pants and shirt. She walked over, and asked,"What did he want, Master Ander?"

Ander did not turn. He had the memory of last night in his mind."He may have been sent to do anything, lady. He was a magic user, and a threat. I have taken care of him."

Rachel stepped into his line of sight, forcing him to look at her."I would have liked to question him, Master."

Ander was sharp, and stern."A magic user is nothing to trifle with, Lady Rachel. He could have escaped, and then killed us all. Magic is something you do not understand, so do not interfere in my task. You may prepare to depart, my lady."

She was cool. She nodded briskly in his direction after a few seconds of cold glaring. She called to her maids, and mounted her horse. Ander nodded to the corpse."Get rid of it, then rejoin us. We leave in five minutes." He went and gathered his things, his blanket, really, then mounted his own horse.

The men worked in a frenzy to clear the camp. The tent was down, the corpse taken care of, and the men ready in less than five minutes. Ander nodded in recognition, then thye set out again. They moved faster than they had so far, Ander wanting get the lady as far as possible from assassins.

When they stopped that night, Ander cast a spell to disable anyone who tried to enter the camp. During the day, the forest had given way to vast plains. They hadn't really met many other travelers. The Prime Minister had chosen a little used trail.

The men set up camp, and Ander decided to go flying. He knew it was reckless and foolish, but he couldn't resist the temptation. He went to the lady's tent, and entered without knocking. She was eating, and she looked up in suprise as he entered. He didn't give her a chance to speak, but said,"I'm going to go scout out our road. I will return just after dark. I will be placing a spell of protection around you. Any who attempt to enter this tent will be driven mad until I return." He turned on his heel, and walked back out. He cast the spell, a curious sound as he sang.

Then he turned to so the guard captain. He nodded in greeting, then said,"I am going to scout outt our road. Don't try to enter the lady's tent. You'll regret it." He then turned and walked briskly off in the direction of the forest. He heard the guard call after him, but he ignored him, now walking through the first of the trees.

He shed his robe, and spread his wings, enjoying the nice feeling of stretching them. He looked up, and jumped, aiming for a hole in the canopy.

He shot out into the air. He wheeled through the sky, keeping the camp out of sight. He then got back to bussiness. At least, he got to his escuse for being up here at all. He flew over the road, and saw thier destination. Andrast. It was on the horizon.

He flew back to his roeb, and pulled the heavy cloak back on. He walked back to the camp, remembering at the last instant the spell he'd cast to keep people out. He cancelled it, then went silently to the lady's tent. He cancelled that spell as well. He knocked this time, and she gave him permission to enter. He did so, and found her still at her table, reading. He spread his blanket, and sat on it. He sang, and the spell to drive anyone who got close to the tent mad was reactivated. He looked over at the lady, and as usual, she was staring at him, a dreamy look in her eyes. He realized tht she must really like the sound of his singing.

Ander pulled out his food, and ate, then stowed it away again. He was about to lay down when Rachel said again,"Ander? Will you sing me to sleep?"

Ander again stared at her, incredulous. He was about to refuse, but she looked so beautiful, so sad, that he couldn't. He thought for a seocond, then said,"Get in bed, then."

She did, seeming as suprised as he was. She lay down, and Ander sang the same sweet lullaby he'd sung the night before, a spell to make her fall asleep.

She sighed in contentment, then dropped peacefully off to sleep. Ander waited for a second, his brow creased in a frown. It didn't seem right to use magic this way. He waited until he was sure she was asleep, then he wrapped himself in his blanket, falling asleep quickly.

In the morning, he waited until the lady woke, and then said,"Lady Rachel, I require your experience. I will wait outside until you are presentable." He exited the tent, this time finding no one had tried to get into the tent. He waited, and then the lady said,"Master Ander, you may enter."

Ander did, suprised to find her wearing a floor length gown instead of her riding clothes. She had put her hair up in an elegant whirl, and had donned a necklace and earings. She was sitting in her chair.

Ander stood opposite her."How will I be expected to act, my lady? What would be considered appropriate?"

She smiled."As a Master in Andrast? They will expect nothing from you. Act as you like, Master Ander. They will accept it. I take it we are very close to the city?"

Ander nodded."We are. We will arrive today. There is one other thing, my lady. As I am a Master, your references to me as Master Ander must cease. It will do harm for others to see such familiarity." He adopted a stiff formal tone. She copied him, and said,"Very well, Master. That will be all?"

Ander nodded."Prepare yourself, my lady. We leave in five minutes." He left the tent, and found the guards already packed, and waiting for the lady to vacate her tent. She did, and they attacked it with a fervor. They were traveling in minutes.

The city's gates were very impressive, although they were damaged. They rode past the guards, who stared at the lady, but dared say notyhing because of the forbidding Master who rode beside her. Ander sighed, an inaudible sound. He was starting to hate all this superiourity.

They rode leisurely through the city, until they arrived at the lord's palace. It had a small estate around it, large green lawns, and flowerbeds fit for a king. They were stopped briefly at the gate, then let through. Ander dismounted, and nodded to the maids. A man came forward to take the lady's horse, and Ander stepped into his way. The man looked suprised. He went to step around Ander, but Ander shook his head."You will not approuch the lady."

Lady Rachel had dismounted."Please, Master, I think I can look after myself now."

Ander didn't turn."I am charged with your safety, Lady Rachel. In this you must obey me. You two." He indicated two of thier escort."Take the lady's hose to the stables. You." This, at the man who'd tried to take the horse."Will escort us to the Lord Filmore."

The man sputtered."I am but a stable hand, my Lord. I am not allowed into the palace."

Ander took a step forward."I told you to take us to the Lord. You are with me. You are to do as I say."

The man went slightly pale, but whined,"The Lord's orders are-"

Ander lost his temper, or at least, he seemed to."_I_ gave you an order! You will do as I say, even if I told you to kill your lord! Now, _go!"_

The man stumbled in his haste to do as Ander ordered. He led them inside, and through the large entry hall. They went to a large set of handsome mohagany doors, and then bowed, gesturing to the door. Ander allowed the lady to lead the way, and followed barely a step behind her.

There were three men in the large study. The one sitting in the chair looked old and overwheight, barely a threat. The lady curtsied, and Ander stood completely still. The man looked up, and said in a rude voice,"Who is this that does not show his lord proper homage?"

Ander took a step forward."You are not a lord." His lying spell had alerted him at once. The lord wasn't this old man. He looked around."Lord Filmore, enough games. Let this begin."

The old man looked terrified, but a younger man, in his late thirties, laughed.'I think I like this Master. Get out of my chair, Festari." He strode over and took his chair. He studied them all with obvious interest, especially Ander. He didn't speak for a moment, then said,"We will begin negotiations tommorow. Tonight, you will be given every comfort. My lady, I have arranged for six servants for you, and the same for you, my lord Master.

"You will both have quarters furnished for your status, and your guards will have guest quarters here as well. Until they are well rested, I will assign you ten new guards. Is that satisfactory?" He seemed to feel important, and obviously thought that they were impressed.

Lady Rachel nodded courteously."I am honored that you would spare much needed men for me, my lord. I am sure we will be very comfortable."

Ander stepped forward again."I will be accompanying the lady wherever she goes. I do not believe these guards necesary, but if it makes you feel that the lady will be safe, I will also go along with your wishes. But all of your men must swear thier loyalty to me. They must obey me before even you."

One of the other men in the room stepped forward at this."How dare you insult the Lord Filmore!" He raised his fist to hit Ander, but Ander didn't give him the opportunity. He whipped out his knife, and stabbed the man in the arm, and kicked him aside. The other, older man, gasped at this, and pulled a short sword. Ander lost patience. He sang, quick and sharp, and the man fell to his knees, grasping his ears in agony.

Only Lord Filmore didn't move. He sat there with a slight smile on his face."I hope you haven't damaged them in the long term, Master. Of course we shall go along with your wishes."

Ander nodded and sheathed his knife. Rachel smiled nervously."Until tommorow, my lord?"

Filmore nodded, still smiling."Yes indeed, Lady Rachel." He rose, and bowed. Rachel bowed in return, but Ander remained rigid. A maid entered, and said,"I am to escort the lady to her chambers. If I may, lady?"

Rachel nodded, and walked out behind the maid. Ander followed barely a step behind. The others were behind them, and Ander said,"Find yourselves a place to stay. I will send a man to wake you in the morning. If you do not recieve the summons, meet us in the lords office."

They nodded, and dispersed. Ander followed the lady, and they arrived at a handsome door, guarded by two heavily armed men. They stopped them until the lady told them who she was, then allowed her through. Then, when Ander started to follow, one said,"You are not allowed inside the lady's chamber, Master." He laid a hand on his sword hilt.

Ander continued as he hadn't heard. The man drew his sword, and Ander stopped, appraising the man. He quickly composed a spell, and sang one note. The man cried out, and was thrown ten feet down the corridor. The other man paled, and said,"You may enter, my lord."

Ander nodded, and walked into the suite. It had four rooms. A parlor, a bedroom, a bathroom, and a dining room. He could hear Lady Rachel in the bathroom, with the maid, and he sat stiffly in one of the chairs in the parlor. He waited, and eventually a servant entered with a tray of food for the lady. He looked suprised to find Ander there, but set the food on the dining table.

The lady emerged, now dressed in a different dress, this one a deep red, wearing cloth slippers. She waited, and the maid entered, and helped her into a chair at the head of the table. Then the maid set about dividing the food between them, and bowed, retreating to the corner.

The lady picked up her fork, but Ander said,"No. Do not eat yet." He waved the maid forward."You will taste the food before the lady eats."

The maid looked shocked at the way he had told Rachel what to do, but she sampled the food from all of the dishes, even Ander's. She then retreated to a corner, and Ander waited, then cast a spell. He sang softly, and detected no hint of poison. He sat, and nodded to Rachel. She smiled, and said,"Well thought, Master."

Ander ignored her, now concentrating on eating. They ate in silence, and Ander then left the table, returning to his chair. The lady finished, then said,"I bid you good night, Master." She beckoned the maid, and they went to the bedroom. Ander waited until the maid re-emerged, then reached out with his mind, trying to touch Lady Rachel's.

He felt her, and she started. He spoke in her mind."I will put enchantments around your rooms, Lady. No one will be able to enter your bedroom without being incapacitated."

She couldn't answer, but she did start humming to herself. He took that as a yes, and sang, weaving the spells into place. When they were, he cast another spell to wake him at dawn, and took a couch for his bed.

No one had tried to enter the lady's chamber when Ander woke the next morning. The two guards were different. They informed him that there had been those who wished entry, but they had turned these people away. Ander nodded and went back inside.

The lady was awake, and sitting in bed when he entered. She smiled at him, but couldn't see his face under the hood. She reached out and pulled a bellpull, summoning a maid.

The woman arrived shortly, and Ander excused himself, and waited. Less than ten minutes later, Lady Rachel emerged, wearing a long black satin dress. Her hair was loose, but brushed back. She wore a silver diadem to restrain it and show her rank. She nodded to Ander, and they left the lady's quarters. The two guards immediatly took up a position behind them, and the miad escorted them to the audience chamber of Lord Filmore.

They stopped outside the chamber, a courtesy. Then they were called inside. The guards pulled open the huge maple double doors, and they entered.

The room had probably been designed as a banquet hall. Now it held only four pieces of furniture. They were all as luxurious as any in the Parliament Palace, but perhaps not as well taken care of. A large dest sat at the far end, before a huge fireplace. A fire crackled there, and in the large chair sat Lord Filmore.

The lord smiled at them, and said,"Please, my lord and lady, take a seat." He gestured at two other armchairs placed before the desk. They took thier seats, Ander sinking into his chair like he was slouching, the lady sitting primly in hers.

Lord Filmore looked at a sheet of paper on his desk, and said,"This says that there were complaints against your coming, my lady. Surely none would deny your father, the Prime Minister?"

Rachel smiled politely."My father himself id not approve of my coming, Lord Filmore." She spoke as if conveying an embarrasing secret. She laughed airily, and went on,"But, really, it seemed only proper to handle this matter with finesse, and to bestow my own presence in the negotiations."

Filmore laughed with her, and said,"Well spoken, lady. Very well, shall we get on to bussiness? I assume by your presence that the Parliament frowns upon my war with Tehican?"

Lady Rachel frowned thoughtfully."It goes deeper than that, Lord Filmore."

Filmore laughed."Please, call me Jonathan." He leaned back."How does it go deeper, lady? War is war, whether I will it differently or not."

Rachel smiled enchantingly."Jonathan. War kills people. War hurts nations, and it serves only to inflame egos and fatten provinces. Although I am sympathetic to your cause, I must do my duty to the Parliament."

Ander spoke for the first time."The Order frowns upon war, Lord Filmore. War prevents us from doing our duty. Like anything that stands in our way, it shall be removed."

Rachel shot him a look that was probably meant to admonish him, but he knew his duty. He wanted to keep Jonathan Filmore intimidated as long as possible without using magic.

Jonathan smiled indulgently at him, then turned to Rachel."I am pleased to hear of you sympathy, Lady Rachel. Perhaps you would be my spokesperson on the Parliament?"

Rachel sighed."Of course, I would love to, but why would I side with you, Jonathan? The Parliament is already considering siding with Lord Gilbert. If I were to back you, I would need more of an incentive."

Jonathan smiled."Of course. And you, Master? Will you side with me in this bloody war against Gilbert?"

Ander knew that the Masters didn't interfere in the provincial wars. They were beneath them. Jonathan knew this as well. Ander did not deign to respond, instead leaning back and putting his black booted feet up on Jonathan's desk.

Jonathan went slightly pink, but covered that by saying,"Perhaps you would like a respite, my lady? We have the most exquisite bath house this side of the sea. Would you like to visit it later, with my stunning wife?"

Rachel laughed again."Why, Jonathan, you are not married!"

Jonathan got a wierd look in his eyes when she said that."No." He said sadly."I am not. I was betrothed some months ago, when my father passed, but tragedy snatched my lovely bride away."

Ander took his feet down."Yes. I heard of this. Though I myself care not for your feelings, there is a lady present. How did your betrothed die, Lord Filmore?"

Jonathan got sad."Why, she took her own life on the eve of our wedding. She poisoned her wine that night. A dreadful thing, you can be sure. I heard her family was mostly struck ill, and her parents died of grief."

Ander frowned under his hood. Jonathan had lied. His wife to be hadn't taken her own life, and her parents hadn't died of grief. He now understood the power of a spell to detect lying. He wondered if it were a good thing. He decided to unnerve Jonathan even more.

"Do not lie to me, Lord Filmore." He said in a soft, amused voice."I do not appreciate such things. Masters do not tolerate lying."

Jonathan looked only slightly confused, and mabye a little angry."Lie, Master? Surely not! I would never lie to one such as you!"

Ander shook his head."But you seem to keep doing so. I am not impressed, Filmore. Perhaps I would like to call this meeting to an end, until tommorow."

Jonathan went red."That's Lord Filmore, Master."

Ander didn't look up."Not for much longer, I fear, if you lie to the lady as you have done today." He stood. Jonathan did likewaise, although reluctance colored his movements. The lady rose last, and curtsied to Filmore, then said,"I will retire, Lord. I would like to meet you at the bath house later, alone."

Ander looked up sharply."That is out of the question, Lady Rachel.I will be present." Jonathan went red again, but Rachel laughed."Of course, Master. But you do not count, for you are privy to all of my secrets." She smiled enchantingly at Fiomore, then swept gracefully from the room. Ander nodded to Jonathan, then left as well. He caught up with the lady after a few yards, and walked beside her to her quarters.

Ander inquired after thier original escorts, and a maid went to summon them. Less than two minutes later, she was back, breathing heavily, and pale. She curtsied to Ander, and said in one breath,"They are all dead, Lord! They were all stabbed in thier sleep! Thier chambers were not guarded like your own!"

Ander took her shoulders, said,"Sit." Ander went into the lady's room. She was taking the diadem from her tresses, and looked up as he entered. Ander didn't give her a chance to speak, instead saying,"I am going to talk with our host. Your escort was killed last night. Stay here. If anyone comes near you, they will die." He sang, wrapping the lady in a web of magic, before he swept quickly from the room.

He surged past the guards, and caught Jonathan as he was leaving his audience chamber. He walked past his guards like they weren't there, and said,"I want an explanation, now."

Jonathan looked only suprised."Whatever do you mean, Lord?"

Ander lost patience. He grabbed the lord by the front of his tunic, and slammed him into the wall. The guards cried out and came farward, but Ander sang, flinging them down the hall like leaves in a gale. He glared at Lord Filmore, and hissed,"The lady's guards were killed last night. What do you know of it?"

Jonathan looked only slightly scared, and more than slightly angry."I knew nothing of this until this instant, Master. You will forgive me for-"

"Liar!" Ander snarled. He threw Jonathan across the hall, where he slammed against the opposite wall. He fell to the floor, and then Ander was hauling him to his feet."Answer me now, and answer me true, or I will have to executed for this crime!"

Jonathan went pale, then stammered out,"I knew there was a plot to kill your guards. I didn't know who it was, but I did know of it. I thought it would strengthen my position if Gilbert's men were discovered attempting to assassinate the lady. I never intended-" But Ander had thrown him again, now sprinting for the lady's chamber.

He barely arrived in time. He burst through the door, and saw nothing out of the ordinary, other than the maid seemingly in quiet conversation with Rachel. Then he felt his spell to protect her was cancelled. He felt the wrongness, like he was suddenly without air underwater. He leapt forward, and saw the knife in the maid's hand.

Ander sang. He sang hard and cold. The maid dropped her knife, and fell writhing to the floor. He still sang, sending waves of agony into the maids body.

Then, she was on her feet, the knife in her hand. He felt again like he was drowning in wrongness, and knew his spell had been negated. He sang again, and this time, he saw the maid's hand go to her necklace before his spell was cancelled. She leapt at him, and he whipped out his long knife. She laughed in glee, and Ander sang again, a sharp cutting noise. The maid's necklace fell from her, and landed a few feet away. She went pale, and tried to run at the window. Ander sang again, starting to feel the stress of using too much magic.

The maid fell like invisible bonds had appeared around her ankles. She was suddenly bound and gagged.

Ander stumbed against the couch, and managed to say,"The necklace . . . ." Before everything went dark.


	7. Rachel

Rachel

At first, he wasn't aware of anything but a gentle clunking sound. _Clunk, clunk, clunk._

Then he smelled a strange scent, like herbal tea. It seemed to go with the sound, in an odd way. He smelled a subtle perfume, like lilac blossoms, and heard a small shuffling sound.

Then he heard a woman's voice say,"Is he looking okay? He looks less pale."

Another, older woman responded,"Yes, milady. His fever is gone. He simply seems to have been exausted beyond normal means. I have seen it before in thier kind."

Rachel lowered her voice to near a whisper, but he could hear her anyway."And what about the . . . wings?"

The woman took a moment to answer, as if she had shaken her head."I do not know. He may be able to tell you himself, when he wakes."

Rachel sounded troubled, and slightly sad when she answered."I am too afraid to ask him. He is always so . . . distant." She made another movement, like she had sat down."I only once asked him a question, about himself. He rebuffed me."

The old woman chuckled."He is young, milady. Give him time."

Rachel didn't answer for a moment, then said,"Has this ever happened?"

The woman was about to answer, but Ander decided it was time to wake up. He didn't want to hear any more. He didn't want to think of himself with Rachel. He didn't want to hear about her problems. He hated being on this mission, and everything that went along with it. But he would do his duty. But that didn't entail being friends, or anything more serious, with Rachel.

He groaned, and they fell silent. He opened his eyes. He appeared to be in a small room, filled with jars and bottles. A fire burned in a small hearth, and a pot of soup was simmering over the flames. He was lying on a bed, covered in a coarse cloth. He felt like he had a hangover, and he groaned again.

The older woman, a beautiful woman with cinnamon hair and eyes, laid her hand on his forehead, and said,"How are you feeling, Master? Do you think you could answer?"

Ander thought he might throw up, and he didn't answer, only shaking his head once. That didn't make him feel any better in the throwing-up department, but the woman did remove her hand, saying,"Just lie still. I've seen cases like this before. They call it the magic sickness. Or at least, we do. I don't know what the others call it."

Ander groaned again, and the woman seemed to sense something in it. She reached swiftly under the bed, and pulled out a large metal tub. Ander threw up into it, then fell back on the pillows, groaning. He just then realized he was naked under the blanket. That did a lot for his self esteem.

The woman patted his shoulder, saying,"It will pass soon. In an hour or two, the magic sickness will fade. I'm told it feels like a hangover. But you had a fever along with it. I did everything to break the fever, and it broke earlier this morning."

Ander only groaned again, and threw up into the metal tub. Rachel didn't seem all that squeamish, but she did go slightly pale, her face drawn in worry.

Ander tried to sit up, but the woman pushed him back down."No. It will pass. You must rest. If you get up now, the fever may return, and you will most definitely throw up again."

Ander nodded, and nearly lost what little was still in his stomach."What happened? The woman?"

Rachel smiled at him."The maid was arrested and hanged for her crimes. The people are calling you and Lord Filmore heroes. You did most splendidly."

Ander groaned again. Crap. Filmore was a hero. He was probably the one behind all this. Double crap.

The woman cleared her throat."You should sleep it off, Lord. Perhaps a sedative?"

Rachel answered for him."Yes. I'll stay with him, Healer."

The woman smiled, and said,"Call me if he shows any signs of a relapse." She stood, and pulled a bottle from it's shelf, uncorked it, and mixed it with water. She then poured it down Ander's unresisting throat. He groaned agian. It tasted like fire. Then his eyes fell closed, and he was in the dark again.

It was dark when he woke again. He opened his eyes and looked around. The small room hadn't changed. Rachel sat in her chair, and the woman was still gone. Ander silently swung his legs out of bed. The feeling of nausea was nearly gone. He looked around, and gratefully located his clothes.

He pulled them on, trying not to wake Rachel. She twitched when he reached past her, but didn't wake. When he was decent, he shook Rachel's arm lightly.

Her eyes shot open. She looked around frantically for a second, then she calmed down. She looked at Ander, and her eyes widened."Ander! You should be resting!" She placed a hand on his chest, and tried to force him back down.

Unfortunately, Ander was still very weak. He fell back with a groan, and said,"You should be somewhere better protected."

She smiled."Jonathan has placed a dozen guards at your command. They obey me in your absence. I believe he had no choice. Anyway, you need to rest."

Ander snorted."Yeah, right." He composed his thoughts, and sang. It was a rousing melody, and he felt energy surge into his body. The nausea slightly rose, but he could sit up without difficulty.

Rachel tried to shove him back down, but he was stronger than her now. He shook off her hands, and stood. The nausea got worse, but not overwhelming, like it had been. He looked at Rachel, and said,"There any food around here?"

She nodded, and went to the stewpot. She ladled out a bowlfull, and handed it to him."I had it checked for poison. It's fine."

Ander nodded, and inhaled it. He passed her the bowl, and she refilled it. He ate this one more slowly. When he was done, he sighed. He looked around for his cloak, but Rachel said,"It's being cleaned. You'll have to wait if you want it back. Evidently, you threw up on it last night."

Ander looked at the cieling."How long was I sick?"

Rachel shifted uncomfortably."Well, she told me you were rather quicker than most of the other magic users she's seen. So, you shouldn't feel like you were . . . ."

"Rachel. How long was I unconcious?"

She took a deep breath."Three days."

Ander sat weakly on the bed. Three days! If a magic user had come along, everyone in the castle could be dead by now!"I have to speak to Filmore."

Rachel looked worried."A lot changed while you were out. Jonathan has convinced the people that you're unfit to protect me. And you weren't there to protest. They think that you should be expelled from Andrast."

Ander's face went dark."Lord Filmore will be removed from his post. Right now. A Master is above every law, and he's trying to get rid of me, impeding my duty. Master Jacyn told me this might happen."

Rachel coughed slightly."Ander, you're not a Master, are you?"

Ander looked at her in shock. He was so sure that he had hidden that fact so well. . . . But he couldn't lie to her."No. I'm not. This was my first mission. My Master, Master Jacyn, is on a mission of his own, and it was too dangerous for me to go with him. So the Council of Five decided that I would guard you."

Rachel nodded."And, um, why do you have . . . wings?"

Ander shook his head."I can't tell you that. It is too important."

Rachel looked into his eyes."Please?"

Ander looked back, and felt his resolve shatter."Fine. But I'm going to cast a spell on you that will not allow you to tell anyone, in any way."

Without waiting for her answer, Ander sang, a secretive, soft melody. He felt it take effect, and then spoke quickly."I am what we call Prodigeous. I was altered by the magic, and I am far more gifted than most Masters. The Prodigeous are very powerful, and they are kept very secret."

Rachel nodded."Can you alter someone with magic like you were?"

Ander thought about it, then said,"Yes. Probably."

There was a soft sound from outside, and one of his guards said,"Master, may I inquire your bussiness before you enter?"

A female voice responded flatly,"I was called by Master Ander."

They obviously parted, because a woman in black Master robes walked into the room. She had her hood up, and her cowled face betrayed no emotion."Lady Rachel, you will excuse us."

The lady nodded, and left the room. The Master whispered, and Ander could no longer hear outside the room. The door banged shut, and the Master removed her hood. It was Master Clarissa.

She sat in Rachel's chair, and said,"What has happened?"

Ander told her everything, and then asked why she was actually there.

She shrugged."Jacyn told me to check on you. He felt something, like you needed him. He sent me, and look what I find! Everything almost fell apart! I remember how it feels to be spellstruck, so I won't hold it against you."

Ander looked up."Spellstruck?'

Clarissa nodded."That's what happened. You used too much magic, your body couldn't take it. You wre lucky to be out just three days. I was bedridden for a week." She stood."I cannot stay longer. I am needed in Tehican. There was a plot to assassinate Lord Gilbert. I am impressed that you can cast a lie detection spell. Always keep it active. You are doing well. Return with the lady at the end of her stay. If you think it necisary, remove Filmore from his fiefdom.

"Ander, did Jacyn tell you about the cult, the Scion of Terithia?"

Ander nodded. She went on."Be on the lookout for thier members. They are dangerous. If you find any, either take them to Queen's City, or kill them if you can't. Good fortune, Apprentice Ander."

Ander bowed."Good fortune, Master Clarissa."

She inclined her head, and left. He could just barely hear her in the hall. Then Rachel was back. She looked at Ander, and said,"Was she your Master?"

Ander shook his head."No. My Master is busy. She's here because I was sick. She was making sure I could carry out my duty."

Rachel nodded."Jonathan has requested my presence. Will you come with me?"

Ander looked around."Where is my cloak?"

Rachel looked rueful."It disappeared. The cleaners don't know where it's gone. Perhaps you should speak with Jonathan without it?"

Ander took a deep breath."A Master's cloak is more than a cloak. It's a symbol. People learn to respect and fear those wearing them. That's why we never show our faces in public."

Rachel sighed."I thought Masters always did thier duty?"

Ander nodded."I'll go without. My power is still intact." He stood, fighting a slight wave of nausea. He waved Rachel back when she tried to come to his aid."I'm fine. Let's go."

The second they left the healer's room, four guards fell in around them. They stared at Ander. He ignored them.

They arrived at Jonathan Filmore's audience chamber, and Ander entered without knocking. Ander whispered a quick spell, giving him greater physical prowess. He didn't want to be outmatched, no matter what happened.

Jonathan was seated, and there were four other guards in the room. There were now eight potential enemies. Ander ignored this. He stood tall while Rachel curtsied.

Jonathan nodded in respect to her, and adressed Ander."I heard you were very sick, Master. Are you recovered? Is this sickness contageous?"

Ander ignored this question, saying,"The Council of Five has given me full permission to remove you from office, Filmore. Do not test me. I am not in a good mood. This is now a full investigation on behalf of the Order of Masters."

Ander walked closer to the desk. Filmore's guards tensed. Ander spared them a glance."If you wish to save face in front of your men, Filmore, tell them to go."

Jonathan went stony faced."They will stay, Master."

Ander's face blackened."They will go, Lord Filmore."

Jonathan appraised his guards."No, they will stay."

Ander shrugged."Eight more bodies, I suppose." He stared into Jonathan's eyes."Are you behind the assassination attempts on Lady Rachel?"

Jonathan went beet red."I will not answer such questions!"

Ander smiled slightly."Your refusal is as a confession of guilt."

Jonathan glared at him, then said,"No, I am not behind them."

Ander chuckled."You are lying. I can tell, you see. I cast a spell to tell if anyone was lying to me. Would you like to rethink your answer? If you lie to me again, I will kill you where you sit."

Jonathan went pale as a ghost. He stuttered for a second, then shouted,"Sieze them!"

Ander had been waiting for this. He sang a peircing, cold, sharp melody. The guards all clasped thier chests, and fell to the floor, dead. Ander almost staggered when the nausea hit, but managed to remain standing."You are under arrest for attempted assassination of the Prime Minister's daughter, and the attempted murder of a Master."

Ander called for another set of guards. They entered, and Ander said,"This man has tried to kill the Lady Rachel. Lock him in the castle prisons."

They bowed, and grasped Jonathan's arms in a painfully tight grip. He swore at them, attempting to free himself, ordering them to release him. Ander walked over, and said softly,"You are no longer a Lord. I hereby remove you from office."

He went pale, and said,"I can give you information! About the Scion of Terinthia!"

Ander felt himself stiffen."Put him in that chair."

The guards placed Jonathan in the chair before the desk. Ander sat in Jonathan's oversized chair, and put his feet up on the desk."Well? What do you want in exchange for that information of yours?" Ander blessed Jacyn's lessons on how to negotiate with people like this.

Jonathan looked slightly hopeful."My lands and titles."

Ander shook his head."Don't aim for the sun, Jonathan, you'll blind yourself. Your lands are gone. You are no longer a Lord. How about your life?"

Joanthan shook his head."I want protection."

Ander leaned forward."From who?"

He shook his head."All part of the deal, Master."

Ander thought for a second, then said,"You will go to the Queen's City prisons. You'll be safe there, and you will live comfortably."

Jonathan nodded, and said,"I don't know much, but I do know that they want any regular opposition dead. They're trying to kill off all of you Masters, and they're looking for something called a Prodigeous."

Ander his his emotions just in time, and said,"More."

Jonathan nodded quickly, and said,"They tried to kill Lady Rachel, the maid was one of thier assassins. She wasn't a magic user, but she had a powerful weapon. I was told to stay away, and then my problems would end."

Ander nodded, and said,"More."

Jonathan blanched."I don't know any more."

Ander smiled."Liar."

Jonathan started really sweating."Thier leader has a Master in her keeping. She's trying to make him her slave. I also have someone she wanted me to kill in my prisons. He was sceduled to be executed today, as a matter of fact."

Ander stood."Bring me this peson, at once! If he is already dead, add anyone responsible to his pyre!"

The guards bowed, and ran from the room. Jonathan sat up straighter, and said,"That's it. Oh, yes, I do know the woman's name. She's called Pandora. Supposedly-" He broke off, his eyes widening. He stood, then fell to the floor. Ander leaped to his feet, and Rachel ran forwaard, but they were both too late. He convulsed, and explosively vomited blood, sending a crimson tide across the proud flagstones. He twitched for a minute, then was still.

Ander swore, then remembered Rachel."Sorry."

She smiled."I second that sentiment. How did he die?"

Ander shrugged."Magic. I'm not sure exacly how, or I probably could have saved him. However, I couldn't. Good riddance. "

Rachel was about to respond, likely to try to reprimand him, when two guards came in, escorting a young man between them. He seemed older the Ander, mabye nineteen. Ander motioned for him to sit, and he did. He was dressed in grey rags, his brown hair was streaked with filth. The only thing that didn't look abused were his eyes. They were a blazing glacial blue.

Ander smiled, and said,"Do you know why you were imprisoned?"

He stared at Ander, and said,"No, Master. They took me from my house early in the morning, about a week ago. They took me to the prisons, and told me I had to stay there until some woman came and-"

Ander suddenly understood the manner of Filmore's death."Do not speak of her!"

The man looked suprised, but then went on,"They told me I was to be killed because of something that had been in my family."

Ander leaned forward."What?"

The man shook his head."I can't tell you. I couldn't tell them either. A long time ago, my family says, a powerful Master cast a spell on this, I suppose you would call it an hierloom. He enchanted it so that only it's keeper could find it. Anyone of malicious intent could never find it."

Ander nodded. He turned to Rachel"Get your things. We need to leave, tonight." She protested vigorously, but he went on,"I need to get this man to the Council of Five, and no one else can defend you from any harm. You need to get out with us."

The man also protested."I'm a free man! you can't do this! I have rights, by law!"

Ander shook his head."I am a Master. By law, my word supersedes the law. You are not a prisoner, unless you think of yourself as one. You must go before the Council of Masters."

Ander shoved away from the desk before either of them could protest again. He called for the guards, and instructed them to ready three horses. No more.

They protested at the lady going anywhere with no escort. Ander glared at them, and said,"Where is my cloak?" And he ignored thier question.

One of them looked confused, but the other said,"It is in the Lord Filmore's room, Lord."

Ander nodded, and said,"Retrieve it for me."

The guard was back in seconds, with the cloak. Ander saw no trace of vomit on it, so he donned it. He felt better in it's blanketing folds. He then escorted the lady out of the castle. In the courtyard were three glossy black horses."The finest in the Lord's stables. He wouldn't let anyone but him ride them."

Ander thanked the stable keeper, and mounted. Rachel needed no help into the saddle. The other man, thuogh, had never been on horseback before. He got clumsily into the saddle, and Ander said,"We will be moving fast. You'll have to learn as we go." He started out somewhat slowly, and when the man seemed to get the hang of it, he picked up the pace to a steady canter.

They didn't go any faster that day. They stopped at the second checkpoint, which was mabye seven miles from Andrast. Ander helped the man set up thier camp. They hadn't brought a tent, so they were to sleep on blankets.

Rachel didn't protest once. They ate some dried fruit Ander had grabbed from Filmore's kitchens, and some of Ander's own food. Filmore hadn't dared remove it from the cloak.

As they were laying down, Rachel whispered, since they were sleeping side by side, for her safety,"Ander, will you sing to me?"

Ander thought of the way she seemed to lose herself, like a drug."No."

Rachel sounded hurt when she asked,"Why not?"

Ander knew the answer, it had just come to him."Because magic is corrupting. It might harm you in the long run."

He rolled over and tried to sleep after that, although he knew Rachel wasn't asleep.

They left very early the next morning. Rachel's eyes were puffy, and red. She had been up all night, probably crying. Ander forced himself to look away from her. They rode much harder today, and covered nearly thirty miles. They were almost to the capital. Ander started the fire, giving the man, who's name was Sean, a little time to nurse his saddle sores. It had been a hard day.

Rachel had gone back to being friendly, but there was something in her eyes whenever she looked into his. She seemed to be in pain, but more of a longing.

They ate in complete silence. Then they were about to go to bed when Ander heard someone on the road. A lot of someones.

A group of horsemen came into view, wearing the livery of Lord Gilbert's fief. There were twenty three of them. Ander stood, as did Rachel. Sean seemed to get smaller. He stayed seated.

The lead horseman dismounted, and the others followed his lead. He bowed to Ander first, and said,"I give you greeting and respect, Master."

Ander nodded, and said,"I accept your greeting, and your respect is welcome."

He then turned to Rachel"Lady Rachel, it is indeed a priveledge. I hadn't heard you would depart that ruffian's hold so soon."

Rachel laughed lightly."I hadn't heard you that you were abroud, Lord Gilbert. I am on my way back to the capital. Hadn't you heard? Lord Filmore has been assassinated. My protector has deemed it unsafe for me anywhere but the capital."

Ander couldn't help but notice the very rigid way she said 'protector'. He decided to intercede."What, pray tell, are you doing so far from home, Lord Gilbert? I would have thought you would be needed in your war."

Gilbert smiled."No, Master. That is not so. My son, Rapheal leads my men in my absence. I was on a diplomatic mission to the capital. Surely we can accompany you there?"

Ander scowled in the hood."That would be most welcome, Lord Gilbert."

Gilbert laughed."By all means, call me Elias. I see that you have no tent for the lady. Sadly, I have only my own. I shall gladly give it to her."

Ander nodded. They couldn't get away from him, so he might as well be of use. But he would try something before they arrived at the capital. Gilbert barked a set of orders. His men were quickly busy putting up thier lord's tent, gathering water from a nearby stream, staring the fire, and a few went off hunting. The basic chores for a large group.

Ander supervised the raising of the tent, and then stayed as near as he could to the lady. She immediatly retired, and the other man, Sean, sat with the other men. Ander went into the lady's tent.

She was saeted in a sparse chair. Ander surveyed the rest of the tent. It had a table, a small cot, and even it's own chamber pot.

Ander set up his own bedding, and was sitting on it, conversing very softly with Rachel, when there came a loud throat clearing from just outside. The lady called for him to enter, and Gilbert did so. He was accompanied by two men, each burdened with a tray of food. Mostly venison, but there was bread, fruit, and wine. Ander whispered to Rachel before Gilbert noticed,"Do not drink the wine."

Gilbert bowed to the lady, then turned to Ander."Will you excuse us, Master?"

Ander looked at him from beneath his hood, and said,"No, Lord Gilbert, I will stay."

Gilbert seemed to be slightly annoyed, and he said as an excuse,"I brought only enough for myself and the lady, Master."

Ander nodded."I have my own food, Elias."

Gilbert looked pleased when Ander used his name. He sat on a stool that one of his men brought in, and said,"I was suprised to see you so far from an escort, Lady Rachel."

She laughed lightly, betraying nothing."I prefer my privacy, Lord Gilbert. Master Ander is more than protection enough." She smiled again, taking the insult out of her statement.

Gilbert smiled back at her."But surely you wouldn't begrudge the extra protection? These are dangerous times."

Ander spoke then."Do you insult the Masters with this claim that I am not enough?"

Gilbert looked shocked."I of course believe one hundred percent in the Masters! How could I not?"

Ander frowned. Gilbert was lying. He didn't like the Masters. He was a threat. But a heavily protected threat. He nodded to Gilbert, and said,"I would like to speak to the lady alone, for now, Gilbert."

He smiled, and nodded. He bowed himself out of the tent.

Ander turned to Rachel. With a quick spell, he wove the air around the tent to thickly, sound could not pass through."Gilbert was lying. He intends us harm. I have an idea. We have to either escape, or kill all of his men."

Rachel nodded."I suspected as much. The war is obviously a front."

Ander was disturbed."What kind of man could kill hundreds in a front?"

Rachel also looked concerned."A dangerous one."

Ander nodded."I'm still weak, from the sickness. I can't kill them all with one spell. I'd regret it. We'll have to kill them mundanely."  
Rachel nodded."Cut a slit in the back of the tent. Do it!"She urged, when he hesitated. He pulled out ghis knife, and cut a large slit in thet ent fabric.

Rachel smiled."Can you ready three horses? I intend to kill as many as I can. Then we'll leave."

Ander nodded. He left the tent, and walked to thier horses. They were in the process of being unsaddled. Ander swept forward, and snarled,"You will not touch the lady's horses!"

They jumped in fright. Ander gestured."you will stay away from those horses. The lady is most fond of them."

They stumbled away. Ander sang softly, sending out a searching tentril of thought. He located Sean, and whispered in his mind,"I am sending a horse down the road. Make an excuse, and leave the camp. Take the horse down the road as far as you can get. We will catch up."

One of the horses left Ander, and walked down the road. The men eyed it, but Ander said loudly,"It will not stray far."

A few seconds later, Sean rose, and said in a mellow tone,"Don't mind me. I'm off to take a piss."

Ander admired the man's ability to lie. He didn't waste time, instead going back to the lady's tent to complete thier plan. He entered without knocking, and found the lady, and Lord Gilbert, intimately close, with Gilbert pressing her against the cloth wall of the tent.

Ander hissed out a quick song, and Gilbert gasped, and fell back, dead. Rachel looked shocked, and afraid now. She put on a stioc face, and called,"You guards! I would like two of you here, now!"

Ander heard them rise, and sang again. The soldiers didn't make a sound. They wouldn't. They didn't even notce that two of them were walking towards the tent.

Ander stood to one side, and when the men entered, he stabbed one, and sang the same hissing noise, which killed the other. They stuffed them out the hole. Rachel called again, and again Ander confused the other guards. Two more came, and they met the same fate.

Then Ander called, and four men ran to the tent. Ander killed them all with one spell, and as they fell, he felt dizzy, and stumbed into Rachel. She caught him, and held him up. He pushed her away, groaning, and threw up violently. She ducked out of the way, and then said,"Let's go. They're down eight men."

Ander nodded weakly, and followed her. At just the thought of casting another spell, he felt faint, but he knew he must. He sang, masking thier departure. They mounted, and rode out of the camp at a breakneck pace.

They found Sean about two miles down the road. He had stopped waiting for them. They met in silence, and rode on. They were more than ten miles from the men when they stopped, and instead of making camp, they slept a ways into the forest. Ander sighed, making himself as comfortable as possible, and fell into an uneasy sleep.

Ander woke only once that night, to the sound of hoofbeats far down the road. They stopped, and there was a sound of fighting, and he didn't hear any more. He went back to sleep.

They left as earlt as possible. Ander told them to ride ahead, and then fell back. He dismounted, and his horse quickly ran after them. He shook off his robes, and folded them tightly. Using a length of rope, he tied them to his waist. He spread his wings, and took to the sky.

He flew swiftly, and was quickly over the soldier's camp. Several were dead, and a few men were eating over a campfire. They weren't soldiers. They appeared to be highwaymen. Using only a few feathers, on the tips of his wings, he spun around, and was speeding the after the others.

They were in sight in seconds. He marveled at his speed. He could see the capital, and he knew that they would soon as well.

Sure enough, they picked up the pace when the city came into view. Ander narrowed his eyes. There were unnaturally dark clouds over the city. Soot black, like smoke. But why would there be smoke?

He dove towards the two others, flaring his wings sharply before coming to an almost perfect landing. They stared in wonder, but he quickly re-doned his cloak, and said,"There's smoke rising from the city. We should proceed cautiously."

Rachel was about to speak, but he shushed her. They moved cautiously, and approuched the settlements outside the city walls. Suddenly', Ander felt a powerful surge, and he pushed both of the others to the ground. In the distance, a huge explosion ripped through the city. Ander gasped, and started running. He gathered his energy, and sang, hard and dramatic. The next explosion, when it came, was much weakened. Ander could feel the instaneous drop of energy, and nearly threw up. He cut off the magic, and turned to the others. No more explosions came, and Ander led them to the city.

They had no trouble at the gates. They swept through the city, to the Parliament Building, where the explosions had been based.

The plaza in front of the building was full of black robed figures. Ander walked forward briskly, and one of the Masters noticed him. He waved briskly for him to approuch, and Ander did so. When he was within ten feet, he bowed, revieling that he wasn't a fully fledged Master. The Master nodded, and said,"Apprentice Ander. The Council of Five awaits you inside."

Ander nodded, and entered the building. The Council of Five was now the Council of Four. Two of them were in conversation, the other two were listening to the Prime Minister speak.

Rachel gave a little cry, and pushed forward, and grasped her father in a vice tight hug. Ander went directly to the Masters.

They all turned as one, as if they were one being. The head of the Council spoke."Ander. I was wondering when you would arrive. Come." He led Ander off the main hall, into an antechamber. There, he removed his hood, showing his pale blueish skin, and the delicate gills on the sides of his neck.

Ander also removed his hood. He didn't wait for Damon to speak, instead telling him everything that had occured since thier departure, including the times he had sung to Rachel.

Damon was silent for a time, then said,"We all remember the feeling of being spellstruck. My sympathy. You did not know, but Magic is actually very corrupting for those who cannot use it. Had you sung for her even one more time, she may have lost herself. This was done commonly many years ago, during Terinthia's reign. She made them her slaves. They had no mind of thier own. Magic destroyed them.

"Mind this does not happen to Rachel."

Ander nodded."What happened here?"

Damon looked sad."Jacyn did this. He had no choice. Pandora wished to test his resolve. He had to keep his cover."

Ander looked at all the destruction."Jacyn did _this?_"

Damon nodded gravely."He is perhaps the most powerful Master I have ever met. Far more than me. But you may yet surpass him. He contacted me and told me of this. There was no one inside when the explosions went off, but three people were killed. Now, return to Queen's City, and await my orders."

"Yes, Master."


	8. How Things Change

**How Things Change**

**A/N: Hey everyone, I'm updating Mastery! Serindra, I know you liked it, so here you go! I hope you like this as well! Read and Review!**

Jacyn tried to ignore the pang in his gut, the one that told him this was wrong. He took several deep breaths, then spoke as harshly as he could, directing his power at the parliament building, but his anger at Pandora.

As the first explosion went off, he dry heaved a few times. The next wasn't so bad. He shook by the time the last explosion went off, then spoke again, his voice wistful. Pandora had taught him this spell. He felt the darkness enclose around him, like a cocoon.

He was transported instantly from the capital. When he blinked, he was standing on the front steps of Pandora's palace. He climbed them, and entered with a whispered word.

He found himself in a long dark hallway, stretching off in either direction. A set of large double doors stood open just in front of him, revieling a large parlor.

He entered, and was unsuprised to see Brand there, sitting calmly on a black leather sofa, reading a book. He looked up as Jacyn entered, then smiled slightly and went back to his book.

A shadow thickened, and Pandora appeared in the center of the room. Jacyn immediatly went to his knees, and he saw that Brand had done the same. Pandora examined him, ignoring Brand. She spoke, slowly, so as to make him speak to her, which she knew he hated to do."Is it done?"  
Jacyn swallowed down his shame."Yes, Mother."

Pandora made a slight movement, then asked,"And was anyone killed, My son?"

Jacyn looked up, daring her to stop him. She didn't."I am not sure, mother. I know that the Prime Minister lived. The Council of Five was in the city."

Pandora nodded."So. They would set themselves against me fully. And you escaped from the entire council?"

Jacyn pretended to smile."As you may remember, the fifth member, Master Jacob, is dead. Killed by you, if I'm not much mistaken?"

Pandora smiled, her hundred year old face looking not a day over seventeen. She laughed, a high, tinkling sound."He was the weakest of the Five, and seperated from the others. Now they are weakened. I have a new assignment for you. Fail, and I will kill you myself. You will kill the Master Jocelyn"

Jacyn went pale."I am not powerful enough to kill her, Mother! You know that! She would easily defeat me!"

"Such lies, Jacyn." She was fast. Her hand connected with his face before he even saw it. The stinging slap sent him reeling. Faster than thought, Pandora swept his feet out from under him. She then said,"Brand, would you like to help me?"

Jacyn heard something thump on the table. He assumed it was Brand's book. Brand walked closer, and said,"Yes, Mistress."

Pandora smiled, and gestured with her hand. Jacyn felt a strong pressure in his upper arm, then there was a sickening snap as it broke. He howled, his other arm clutching futilely at the broken limb.

Then Brand started swaying. There was more pressure, in his other arm, and it broke as well. He was beyond sound now. He only writhed in pain, then Pandora stepped forward and grabbed him by his left arm. With a savage motion, she wrenched it around, causing the mutilated ends of the broken bone to scrape against one another. He screamed again, and then blacked out.

Ander stood at attention, something that most would never do. He looked at each of the Council of Five, and then Master Damon spoke."You are ready for your trial, Apprentice Ander. Will you accept the challenge?"

Ander bowed."I will, Master."

The Council rose."Five are the tests you must overcome. One for each member of the Council, one for each of the Five gods, and one for each of the Five dynasties. This is the first."

Then one of the started to move his arms. Sebastian. He wove a complex enchantment, and Ander blinked. When his eyes opened, he was standing in a large wheat field. The sounds of the field were there, and the smells, but the field was a cold as the Council Chamber. He sang, and the image flickered, then vanished entirely, leaving his standing in the Council Chamber once again. Then another of them started to sing. Micheal. He also wove a powerful spell, and fire erupted everywhere. Ander sang back, cutting off the fire, but it rose higher. He stopped, and then sang again. The air in the room vanished, and with it the fire.

Then the air returned. Master Jocelyn started to hum. Ander tried to sing, but couldn't. She had sealed his mouth shut! He launched himself at her, barely breaking her concenration for an instant, but it was enough. He sang, and her spell was shed like rainwater.

Then Damon began to chant. The world warped, and Ander no longer stood in the Council Chamber. Everything had changed. It was dark, and colder than before. The smell of death was heavy, and he could hear tortured screams in the distance. With a heartwrenching shreik of sound, he instantly transported himself back to the Council Chamber.

Now they all wove their spells together, acting for Master Jacob, who had met his end against Terithia. A strange sight appeared, and Ander shuddered convulsively. It was a vision, he knew, but it seemed so _real_. He saw Rachel lying in a pool of blood, with Terithia standing over her. Ander didn't know Terithia, but he knew instinctively that it was her. He couldn't make a sound. Fear closed his throat, and swallowed his reason.

Then he saw something he didn't expect. Jacyn appeared, and in great pain. Ander felt a great anger, incensed that anyone would think to hurt his master, and his mouth abruptly opened, and a wailing screech erupted from it.

The illusion shattered, and the Four Masters gave started exclamations as they were thrown off their feet. Ander looked wildly around, and realized that what he had seen couldn't have been true. He felt the weakness, from using such magic, come over him, and he fell to his knees.

The Masters got to their feet. Damon stepped forward and said,"Ander, the Council officially grants you the rank of Master. I confer upon you this pendant of black iron, as a mark of your station. Stand and be recognized."

Ander stood, slightly unsteady, and bowed to the Council. They bowed in return, and Jocelyn said,"We have an assignment for you. You will leave tomorow to investigate disappearances in the southern village of Antaqua. You are to take-"

A massive shudder ran through the palace, and Jocelyn broke off, widening her stance to keep her balance. Screams rose from below, and a deafening rumble sounded. The sound drove a shiver down Ander's spine. It sounded like a moan.

Damon went to one of the windows, and peered down. He gave a curse, and said,"The Scion is atacking Queen's City! Ander, rally the Masters. We must counter them before they gain a foothold inside the walls!"

Ander bowed, and ran from the room. He sent out a telepathic message to the other Masters, saying that they were to go to the main hall at once, and that the City was under attack. He felt many of them acknowledge him, and a few thanked him as well. Ander sped of towards the main hall himself.

When he arrived, ten other Masters could be seen. Ander didn't know how many Masters there were in the City, but he had a feeling that they would all be needed.

A rustle behind him alerted him to the Council's presence. He quickly stepped down and jioned the other Masters. They all looked to the Council fo instruction.

Damon spoke quickly."We need to fortify Queen's City. I want you, Arvin, to take two Masters and cover the east wall! Ander, you take two others. The north wall is yours. Gill, take the other four. The south wall. The Council will handle the west wall. Go now!"

They all sprinted off. As soon as they were outside, the Masters all began using their magic. All of them rose into the air, supported by their thuamaturgic skills. Ander quickly spread his wings, and then they were off, to the north wall.

There were soldiers on the wall, of course, but it was the things coming over the walls that immediatly caught Ander's attention. Though he looked out, he saw no huge army. But the Scion of Terithia had encircled the city all the same. Ander knew that their enemies were likely all magic users.

Ander turned to the other Masters. He spoke telepathically."I want you to negate and deflect any offenses that you can. I will direct my attention towards fighting our enemies."

They nodded, and both began working magic. Suddenly, there was an explosion of color below. Something that looked vaguely like a massive ribbon of light spiralled into the air. Ander pointed at it, shouting,"Negate it!"

The Masters both turned their attention to the awesome display. One began maving his hands in complicated motions, while the other started chanting loudly. Ander quickly turned his attention to the ground.

He spotted the caster of the magic, a woman who appeared to be in her fifties. Even from the wall's height of sixty feet, he could see her concentrating fiercly to keep her spell active. Ander sang, high and clear, and her eyes flashed open. She screamed, and her spell faded. The men on the wall cheered, and the woman fell back, still screaming. There was a bright light, and when the light faded, she was dead.

Ander barely had time to savor his voctory. Another magic user stepped forward, and began swaying. Ander almost thought it was Brand, but the man below was not the same height or build as his old friend.

The Masters began working their magic before the man could even get a spell off. He stopped swayin,g and he looked terrified for an instant, before he screamed like the woman had, and with a violent explosion, scarlet went everywhere. Once again the soldiers of Endon cheered.

Then all sound faded. Ander looked around, and saw something he hoped never to see again.

Above the city rose a cloud of velvety blackness, undulating every so often. Tendrils of darkness swept down, and wherever they tou ched anything solid, the object or person crumbled to dust. Ander sang, truying to determine what the thing was, and he encountered a powerful entity in the heart of the darkness. A powerful magic user.

Then from another place on the wall, a mighty blast of light, tinged with colors, stabbed upwards, striking the dark cloud. A long, drawn out scream, eerie and cold, issued from the cloud, and it disappated. Ander felt the ominous presence fade, and knew that the magic user had fled. He suspected that the light had been cast by the Council, and that the magic user in the cloud had been Pandora. But he couldn't be sure.

As if the scream had been a signal, the attacks against Queen's City ceased. The soldiers gave a mighty cry of victory, but Ander ignored them, and once again took to the air. He angled for the source of the light, and sure enough, as he set down, he saw the Council standing there.

Ander bowed, and Damon said, sounding exausted,"Pandora has tested us today. But we were too much for her alone. Good work Ander, on the Northern Wall. I'm guessing you've never seen magic like the aurora, have you?"

"Aurora?" Ander asked. Damon nodded."The ribbon of light? Much like what we just cast? Yes, it is a powerful magic. Of course, it could have done many things, but the magic user who cast it likely was aiming to kill the three of you."

Ander nodded."How many are dead?"

Damon looked around."Three Masters died, when Pandora attacked. Of their numbrs, I would guess at least twenty died. A large number for them. We have won a victory today. Go, rest. We will hav e a new assignment for you soon." He bowed to Ander, who hurriedly bowed lower, and then turned away. Ander, knowing that he'd been dismissed, quickly walked off to find a shower. He hadn't had one since he'd returned from Andrast.

**A/N: What'd ya think? Good, or no good? I had fun devising the different magic in this chapter, so no flames! And suggestions, because I'm running out of ideas! This was never going to be finished, but now I'd like to. Review, and tell me what ya thought!**

**-Arciadrian**


	9. The People Beckon

**The People Beckon**

**A/N: Here's another chapter in Mastery. For Serindraxx, who rarely reviews, but still deserves an update. And everyone else, check out her stuff. She's much better than I am.**

* * *

Ander looked out over Queen's City, watching the people scurry around below. Pandora's attack hadn't succeeded, but she had still caused her fair share of destruction. Three burgs had been razed in the battle, two of them by Pandora's own hand. They weren't sure whether Jacyn had been there, but Damon assumed he hadn't.

Ander sighed, but the sound was silent. As a Master, emotions had little importance. The mission was all that mattered, and anyone, even a Master, was expendable in that mission. But that rarely happened.

The Council had given Ander his assignment. There was a rigid caste in the Kingdom of Endon, with Parliament, and the Prime Minister at it's head. Then the Senators, Lords, and Governors. After that, came the minor nobility, along with the families of Lords, Senators, and Governors. After them the people, who had little voting right. Then the slave class. There weren't too many of them, and none in the large cities.

And there was one other class. The non-human class. During Terithia's reign, she experimented with magic in new ways, sometimes in disastrous ways. She created four new races, to stand alongside men. She created them as soldiers, but they turned on her at the last moment.

The proud Aren. The strong Aelf, the mysterious Del, and the dark Aedal. The Aren, who had wings, were the most dignified of the races, and the most beautiful. They lived in a mountain city that was rumored to be made of white marble. Foolish people called them gods.

The Aelf, who lived in their forest, down the coast. Gentle, peaceful, and long lived. They could use magic, like all of the races, and their city proved it. Damon had said that their home was built in the trees, and had the tails on wolves.

Then the Del, the swamp-dwellers. They were amphibious. They used their magic to build their city underwater. They had long fins on their feet and elbows, and they supposedly lived longer than humans.

Then the Aedal, who were still somewhat loyal to Terithia, but only because she'd created them. They didn't serve her any longer. They had wings as well, but they were black, and membranous. They lived in caves.

Ander had been only slightly surprised when the Council of Five, now with five members again, (Master Clarissa had taken the fifth seat, until Jacyn could return) had ordered him to go to each tribe, and offer an alliance between the Masters and their peoples. Ander had never met one of them, but he wondered if they would even agree.

Footsteps announced the approach of Ander's Apprentice. The Council had been adamant on that. He needed an Apprentice. Ander didn't turn. The child, a boy, from his breathing, waited in silence. Ander didn't acknowledge him, instead turning to walk down the path that led to the Palace's stables.

The boy walked along behind him, staying silent. And Ander could tell, from the depth of his breathing, that he was actually a teenager, maybe fourteen. This might have been a record. Ander was only three years older than his Apprentice.

They arrived in the stables, and a younger Pupil led two saddled horses to them. Ander nodded, and then climbed into the saddle. He motioned for his Apprentice to mount as well, and he did, though somewhat clumsily. Ander walked his horse out of the gloomy stable, and through the grounds. They passed a few Apprentices, in their white robes. Two black cloaked Masters had their heads together on a low bench.

All of the Masters were troubled by Terithia's show of power. The Apprentices and Pupils didn't know enough to understand. Ander stopped at the gates, and another Apprentice opened it hurriedly. Two guards stood outside, wearing the gold of a Queen's City official bodyguard. Ander passed them without a glance. He moved into a trot as they descended into the hustle and bustle of Queen's City proper.

Everyone moved aside for the Master, but a few hissed insults and accusations at them. After one man screamed that they were murderers, Ander stopped his horse.

The whole street went deathly quiet. Ander slowly turned his head and looked at the man. He had gone pale as snow, and was shaking. Ander raised a hand, and pointed at the man. He could feel his Apprentice's eyes on his back, but he ignored him. He sang so softly that no-one would hear, and then spoke, and his voice was magnified and changed, sounding deep, menacing.

"Murderers? _Murderers?_ You dare accuse us of murdering you, when we are the only reason you are still alive? Even in the wake of battle, Masters will be respected. I expect your absolute obedience. You have lived in the shadow of the Palace of the Masters long enough to know that we do not tolerate disloyalty." Ander fell silent, and the entire street back slowly away from him.

Ander nudged his horse gently, and the animal moved slowly on. His Apprentice followed quickly, his own horse moving to catch up. He spoke for the first time as they left the street. "How did you do that?"

Ander didn't stop. He didn't turn. "Questions have a place. Now is not the time. Come, we need to keep moving. Ask again when we make camp tonight."

Endon was roughly the size of California. It's coast was where most of the larger cites were located. To the north was the country of Hariel. South of Endon was Turid. East was the sea, and west was unexplored, and uninhabitable, thanks to the deadly creatures and treacherous wilderness. Queen's City was in southern Endon, and the Capital, which was on the southern coast of the country. Fillholme, the third largest city, was in the northern part of the nation, and commanded most of the country's military.

The place they were headed, the mountains north of Fillholme, were a week's hard ride away. In fact, the town of Merkstrait lay in their shadow.

They encountered no other opposition upon exiting the city. Once they were on the main roads, Ander picked up the pace considerably. They were nearly galloping. Ander sang, and magic wove itself around the horses, making them light as dogs. They wouldn't tire nearly as fast now.

The rest of the day continued thus. They didn't slow, and when they finally stopped, it was already very dark. They reached the fourth checkpoint outside Queen's City, about twenty miles away. Ander dismounted, and unsaddled his horse. He watched his Apprentice copy his movements, wincing at the slightest movements to his legs. He likely had saddle sores.

Ander spread his blankets, and then turned to the teenager. "Gather wood for a fire. Then I will teach you how to start one."

The boy looked surprised, but he did as Ander said. Ander watched him, and silently thanked his lucky stars that he'd had a Master like Jacyn to teach him these things. The boy returned, and piled the wood carefully in the pit. Ander re-stacked it, explaining that the fire needed oxygen to catch. He then showed him how to hold the tinder box, and then the teen sparked the fire.

Flames rose quickly, greedily devouring the dry wood. Ander removed his hood, and met the boy's staring eyes. The boy had brown hair, with strange blonde highlights. His eyes were also brown. Ander then dug his food out of his robe, and handed some to the boy. As he started to eat, Ander asked, "What's you name?"

The boy swallowed, and answered, "Tristan."

Ander nodded. He continued to eat, and Tristan glanced at him every few seconds or so. At last, the younger teenager lost patience. "Master, why are you so young?"

Ander didn't answer, just continuing to eat. Tristan's face grew red, and he quickly apologized, "I'm sorry, Master, I didn't mean to-"

Ander held up a hand, then lowered it. He finished eating, and then said, "Don't apologize. I didn't have much patience either. But you must learn it. So I have decided that I will answer only three questions tonight."

Tristan looked shocked. "Three? But I have hundreds of questions! Aren't Masters supposed to teach us?"

Ander nodded. "I am teaching you something. Patience. Though it appears you lack respect as well."

Tristan went red again, but followed Ander's earlier advice, and didn't apologize. He looked around for a minute, then said, "Will you please tell me why you're so young? I though Masters were all older."

Ander shook his head. " The Council of Five works as it will. I am a Master because they thought I was ready. I passed their tests, and so they gave me my rank. My own Master was also very young. Mastery does not take a lifetime. It takes hard work, diligence, and skill."

Tristan nodded, drinking this in. "But aren't Masters wise?"

Ander shrugged. "Wisdom is nothing but interpreted experience. With time, you become wise. But never confuse knowledge with wisdom, Apprentice. Knowledge is often gained cheaply, because if you gain knowledge from a book, another person is handing you that knowledge. Wisdom can't be given. It must be earned."

Ander lay down, and softly sang, a spell that would wake him if anything came near their camp. Tristan looked curious, but he held it in. Ander smiled to himself. He didn't look up, but said, "Get some sleep, Tristan. We have another long day tomorrow."

Tristan didn't speak, but rolled himself into his own blankets. Ander sang one last time, a spell that would wake him an hour before dawn. Then he dropped off to sleep.

* * *

The next day started with Ander being woken by his spell. As he expected, Tristan was still asleep, but he would wake him soon. Ander quickly packed their provisions, and saddled his horse. Ander bent down, and shook Tristan's shoulder.

The Apprentice's eyes flashed open, and he sat up quickly. Ander was already gone, though, already on his horse. He waved a hand for Tristan to get ready. The Apprentice scrambled to get his blankets and things packed, and then clumsily saddled his horse. He mounted, and winced. Ander nodded in approval, and they were off.

The rest of the trip continued likewise. Ander set the pace, which was slightly less brutal than the day before. He tried to make sure Tristan was adjusting to the pace, then he stepped it up a little. They traveled another thirty miles that day. At this pace, they would arrive at Fillholme in another day, and the mountains above Merkstrait in two.

Of course, Ander could easily have flown there in two days. But since Tristan couldn't fly like he could, they were grounded. Ander could barely contain his exasperation. The Council knew that. But they'd sacrificed speed for tradition.

When they stopped for the night, Tristan had new questions. Ander again warned that he would only answer three. Tristan nodded, and said, "I heard you were Prodigious. Is that true?"

Ander was silent for a moment, then he said, "Yes. I am Prodigious."

Tristan looked like he wanted more of an answer, but Ander didn't elaborate. The Apprentice went to his next question. "Why haven't you been teaching me how to use magic, Master?"

Ander stared him down, until Tristan looked uncomfortable, but didn't apologize. At last, Ander replied, "I am teaching you as I see fit. If you don't think you're learning what you need to, then you should take it up with the Council of Five. However, if it pleases you, I will begin teaching you magic tonight. You may have one more question."

Tristan looked excited at the prospect of learning magic, but asked, "Where are you from, Master?"

Ander was somewhat surprised by this. He hadn't expected the questions to get very personal. But he answered anyway. "A small village to the west of Queen's City." He stood. Tristan quickly copied him. He studied Tristan more acutely, and asked, "What's your channel?"

Tristan shrugged. "Singing."

Ander had a hard time keeping the shock off his face. He knew there were other singers, but he never expected his Apprentice to be one of them. He covered his surprised by saying, "I want you to put the fire out, using magic."

Tristan nodded, and started singing softly, quietly. Ander listened to the music, and found that he could vaguely understand it. He could feel what his Apprentice wanted, and what he was trying to do. The fire slowly, surely extinguished itself.

Ander nodded. "Now restart it."

Tristan nodded, and concentrated. He sang again, this time wistfully, and with passion. The fire flared, and crackled higher than before. Tristan looked slightly more tired, but still able. Ander decided to test him one more time.

Ander sang, quick and hard. Tristan yelped in shock as he felt vice tight bonds clamp around him. He fell, and landed with a thump. Ander looked down at him. "Fight back."

Tristan grinned, and sang, hard and fast. He jumped to his feet, and Ander felt his spell canceled. Ander sang again, a swift, yet smooth song. The wind picked up, and blasted at Tristan. The Apprentice sang, the same melody, and the wind reversed itself, coiling into a compressed ball.

They held the ball, each trying to keep it at bay. While it grew larger. Finally, Ander decided to end the test. He picked up his singing, poured more energy into it. The wind exploded outward, knocking Tristan off his feet, but not touching Ander. Ander sat, and Tristan walked over to his blankets and pulled them back to the fire.

Which had gone out. Ander sang again, and the fire crackled back to life yet again. He opened his food packets, offered Tristan some, and then stowed it away again. He wrapped himself in his blankets, finished eating, and re-cast the spells to wake him at dawn, and one to alert him to intruders. He nodded to Tristan, and then dropped off to sleep.

* * *

Ander looked down at Fillholme, not the largest city in the nation, but certainly big. The entire city was completely organized, and circular, like Queen's City. In the center was a large building, with a domed roof. Four other buildings surrounded it, and then a large, marble wall, glinting white in the sun. Then large, extravagant manors, another marble wall, another section. This one had modest yet still nice houses.

The final circle of the city was not nice by any means of imagination. It was the worst shanty town Ander had ever seen. Only one path was nice, and it led from the main gate to the next circle of the city. Obviously, the lord in charge of Fillholme, Lord Joshua, didn't want important people to walk through masses of beggars. The street was lined with guards keeping the riffraff at bay. The city was built on a large hill, with each circle of the city rising above the others, in tiered steps.

Ander rode through the gates, and the guards bowed. The people, no beggars, of course, all looked around, and bowed their head in respect. Tristan looked awed, and kept staring around. Ander spoke to him telepathically, _"Keep your focus. The Masters must remain stoic."_

Tristan stared at him, then smoothed his face into a mask of indifference. They passed through the first circle of the city, and then into the second. The people here were clean, and it appeared to be the main center of commerce for the city. The main road, which led directly to the palace at the top, was straight, from main gate to palace gate. The road was paved in marble, and wide, grand steps led between the levels.

Ander led the way into the third circle. It was like being transported into the capital. Everyone was dressed in fine clothes, wearing expensive jewelry, and the scent of perfume was heady, and heavy on the air. Ladies walked in small groups, and men talked here and there, engaging in various businesses.

Then they came to the palace gates. These were closed, and well guarded. Ander merely raised a hand, and the guards leapt aside, and opened the gates. Ander and Tristan rode through.

It was a garden, and very lush and beautiful. Ponds, waterfalls, and streams gurgled through the massive complex. The palace doors stood before them, across an extravagant bridge spanning a small creek. The palace had large white marble pillars, and crystal windows. Truly too marvelous for any lord. Even the most powerful lord in the country.

Two more guards waited for them, these wearing the colors of Lord Joshua's men. Red, with gold embroidery. They held long poleaxes, and had long-swords belted at their waists. Lord Joshua commanded the armies of Endon, Ander remembered.

They dismounted, and a young man walked up and bowed. "My Lords. Please, Lord Joshua is expecting you."

Ander nodded. He waved for Tristan to follow, and then walked after the aide. He led them through many large galleries, filled with priceless paintings and tapestries. At last, the arrived at two large double doors. The aide rapped smartly on the doors, and pushed them open. He waved Ander and Tristan inside, then closed the doors after them.

They were in a large room. Nothing like what Lord Filmore had displayed at his manor, but still quite grand. Obviously Lord Joshua believed in magnificence only so long as it complied with functionality. The room was large, but the space was well used. At the opposite end of the room was a large wooden desk, facing the door. Behind it sat a large man in a carved wooden chair.

Between the door and desk was a large table, covered in maps and pens, ink pots and surrounded by high backed, comfortable chairs. A large fireplace stood on one side of the room, with armchairs around it. A tapestry bearing Lord Joshua's image graced another wall.

As they approached, Lord Joshua rose, and surveyed them. Ander, of course, could not be seen beneath his hood. Tristan, however, couldn't help but shift uncomfortably under Joshua's gaze.

Joshua was a large man, with broad shoulders and a thick chest. He had long brown hair, tied back in a tail. His eyes were blue, and stunningly stern. Ander's first impression was that this Lord was a stronger man than any he'd met.

Joshua spread his arms. "Welcome, Master. I hope you find Fillholme to your liking?" His voice, though not booming or loud, carried easily through the large room. It was warm, though, and Tristan relaxed slightly.

Ander nodded. "You have a very beautiful city, Lord Joshua. I am honored to meet you."

Joshua seemed taken aback. "No, Master. The honor is all mine. I am very humbled to see such a figure in my home. But, I'm afraid that there is a time for greetings, counsels, and discussion. First meetings, as a wise man once taught me, are not it. I have had rooms prepared for you. I hope you find them accommodating. I shall see you at the evening meal, and no doubt there are several important people who wish to meet you. It is not often we have a Master dining with us. I'm afraid that I cannot dine alone, as matters of state are constantly besieging me. I must beg your leave, Master. I am needed even now."

Ander nodded. "I am sure. I will see you at dinner, Lord Joshua. May you have a good day." He turned, and left the room, with Tristan at his heels. The door closed with a boom, and an aide hurried along. "Masters! I had not thought you would be finished so soon! I will show you to your chambers at once, of course. If you will just follow me . . . ."

Ander allowed the aide to lead the way, and they walked in silence. They arrived soon at the suite set aside for them. The aide left them there, and Ander entered the room. He was ready for anything, an assassin, but only the large, gorgeous rooms awaited.

They stood in a large parlor, with comfortable chairs and sofas, and a large fireplace. A low table held a tea pot, plate of cakes, and two cups. Four doors led off the parlor, two to bedrooms furnished for kings. One led to a marble bathroom with modernistic plumbing. The last was into a lush study, with several hundred books on shelves, a writing desk fully equipped with pens and ink, and two comfortable armchairs.

The whole suite was very extravagant, and nothing like what Ander had expected. He'd expected nice, yes, but not so generous as all this. But he wouldn't complain.

Ander sat, and sang a quick, almost silent spell to detect poison, and found that the tea was quite safe to drink. He filled two cups, and gestured for Tristan to sit. He sang again, a spell to prevent eavesdropping. Then he removed his hood.

Tristan was again studying him, but Ander ignored this. He sipped at his tea, and asked, "What do we know about Joshua, Tristan?"

Tristan picked up his tea, and answered, "He's big, rich, and commands a lot of respect."

Ander shook his head. "You have stated the obvious. We know that he is powerful, a politically savvy leader, and has gone to incredible lengths to impress us."

Tristan nodded, understanding lighting his face. "So you think he's trying to sway us? What for?"

Ander shook his head. "We don't know yet. But we will find out. I want you to do something. Can you cast a lie detection spell?"

Tristan shook his head. "But I can cast a truth spell."

Ander nodded. "A good interrogation measure, but not much use here. Save it for later. For now, I want you to listen carefully. A Master is a good intimidator, do you know why? Because we don't permit others to lie to us. People know that, and respect and fear the Masters."

Tristan looked down. "But I'm not a Master."

Ander nodded in agreement. "No, you're not. I know that, and you know that. But the Lord and his men don't need to know it." He stood, and closed his eyes. He started singing, fast, complex, and wistful. For almost a solid minute he sang, before Tristan gasped, and Ander opened his eyes.

A black cloak had appeared in the room, on the couch he'd just vacated. Ander picked it up, and examined it. A perfect copy. He handed it to Tristan. "Wear this. I give you permission. But if you abuse this, I will punish you severely. This is a great responsibility. Don't blow it."

Tristan nodded, his eyes still full of wonder, and took the cloak reverently. He stood, and donned it, his face disappearing into gloom. Ander nodded, and said, "Remember, you are a Master to them. But to anyone from the Order, you are still an Apprentice."

Tristan nodded, removing the hood. They spent the next hour in silence, simply enjoying the solitude. When there came a knock on the door, Ander pulled his hood back up, and gestured for Tristan to do the same. Ander called, "Enter."

The aide from before entered, and bowed. "Masters. I am to escort you to the dining hall. Lord Joshua is expecting you." He seemed only slightly confused that there were now two black cloaked figures. They left the room, and walked once more through the luxurious corridors, and passed the Lord's office, before they arrived at another, larger pair of double doors. The aide opened them, and led the two through.

The dining hall was very large, capable of holding easily two hundred diners. The Lord, and many other nobles sat at the high table, where two chairs were vacant at the Lord's left side. Ander knew that these were for them. At his right was a very beautiful woman who appeared to be around his age.

She was dressed well, but not as lavishly as a few other women at the table. She was holding Joshua's hand on the table, and was looking at the Masters curiously.

On her other side were two young men, one of them maybe Ander's age. The other was maybe twenty. After them, and on the other side of the empty chairs, were arrayed the wealthiest people of Fillholme. They had their wives, and a few had their older children.

The aide helped the two of them to sit, and Ander inclined his head towards Lord Joshua's wife. Tristan didn't, but the motion was one of courtesy, not protocol. Lord Joshua stood, and his wife took a fork and rapped it lightly against a crystal goblet.

At the sound, everyone looked to Joshua. He smiled around at them all, and then said, "Welcome, my friends. I am glad you could all join me today. As you can easily see, two Masters from Queen's City are dining with us today. Though they haven't yet told me of their own focus, I can assume that they will be staying with us tonight, before they leave tomorrow. I would like to extend formal greeting to them, and offer my hospitality if ever it is needed."

There was a light smattering of applause, and Joshua sat. Soon, chefs and waiters walked swiftly into the room, bearing trays of food. They quickly circulated the first course, making sure everyone had some of everything. It somewhat sickened Ander that they could eat that way when the people below them, in the first circle were starving, but it wasn't his place to intervene.

Ander slowly reached up and removed his hood, feeling the entire hall's eyes on him. Tristan also pulled back the black fabric, his eyes darting around warily. Then the hall remembered their manners and turned to their plates. Quite conversation ensued. Lord Joshua turned to Ander, and remarked, "You are actually quite young, Master. May I ask, how old are you, exactly?"

Ander tried to think of any ulterior motive Joshua could have, but couldn't find any. "I'm sixteen."

Several of the diners stopped to stare at him, and Joshua himself had a different tone in his voice when he answered. "I had not thought that Masters could be so young."

Ander didn't reply. He continued to eat, while the man on Tristan's other side asked him, "And how old are you, son?"

Tristan acted in a way that made Ander proud. He didn't look at the man, but instead replied, "Is that how you show respect? I am a Master, not a child for you to patronize."

The man looked stung, but didn't dare to respond. Tristan looked at Ander, and sent a single telepathic message. _"I hate acting like this." _

Ander nodded. Joshua looked at him in an odd way, but Ander didn't explain. The rest of the meal was mostly uneventful, after the guests learned that even young Masters didn't allow disrespect. When the meal was over, it was getting dark outside. Ander stood, and Tristan hurried to copy him.

Joshua stood with them. "I take it you're retiring, Masters?"

Ander nodded, pulling his hood back up. Tristan did the same, then they left the dining hall, and walked back to their suite. Ander closed and locked the door, then sealed it with magic. He placed the usual protective spells around the rooms, then sat down on the sofa. Tristan sat across from him, and pulled back his hood. He looked tired, and slightly uneasy. Ander could guess from impersonating a Master.

Tristan was still very curious, though. "Do I still get three questions, Master?"

Ander nodded. Tristan began, "Did I do the right thing today? I mean, telling off that man for asking that question?"

Ander nodded. "You did well. If any man treats you like that while you wear that cloak, I expect you to act like you did."

Tristan looked troubled, but went on, "How did you make your voice sound different, the day we left the city?"

Ander shrugged. "Magic. Anything can be done with magic, in some way. I'll teach you, when we have time."

Tristan nodded, and asked, "You said you're Prodigious. Could I see . . . ?"

Ander nodded, though he knew he didn't have to. He could have said no, that an Apprentice had no place asking something like that. But he decided against it. He stood, and shrugged out of his cloak. He made sure he had enough room, and spread his huge wings. The color of midnight, the primaries slightly lighter, while the backs of his wings were tinged so black they were purple.

Tristan gasped, and raised a hand, as if to touch them. Ander fluttered the feathers a bit, stretching the flight muscles. He hadn't flown for more than a week.

Tristan gently ran a hand over the gleaming feathers, making Ander shudder. The sensation was very strange. He watched Tristan brush his hand across the feathers, then pull his hand back. Ander folded his wings, and pulled his cloak on. He nodded to Tristan, and went to his room. He flopped on the bed, and fell asleep at once.

**A/N: Well, another chapter's come and passed. I hope you all like it, and I'd be happy and motivated if you all reviewed! This is a fun story, and probably will be my longest. I hope so. I'll see ****you next chapter!**

**Arciadrian**


	10. The Tomb

**The Tomb**

**A/N: Hello again. I have another chapter to deliver. Will it be as long as the last? Maybe. To Serindraxx, without whom I would never have discovered Fanfiction. Give her a hand, people! And check out her stuff! She's awesome.**

* * *

**Jacyn**

Being Pandora's son was far from what she seemed to think. Jacyn was currently in her library, reading one of the thousands of books. She had everything, and magic made trips to the bookstore unnecessary. Jacyn knew that this house had been her refuge for many years, when she'd been too weak to confront the Council of Five.

Pandora herself was currently in a meeting with her lieutenants. Jacyn should have been there, but he would rather annoy Pandora by ignoring her. As much as was safe. Brand was always with her. Ever since the Rite of Immortality, he'd been following her like a little puppy. He was completely under her control, as Jacyn knew she wanted him to be.

He looked up as the library door opened, revealing a small being no more than a foot tall. It was grotesque, with boils and sores splattered across it's tiny body. It had mismatched eyes, one red and glowing, the other a sickly white. It was deathly pale, and only magic kept it alive.

Pandora was nowhere near as powerful as her mother, the Sorcerer Queen Terithia. She learned from her, and knew abominable magic, but could not match her pure power. In her reign, Terithia had created monsters that could destroy a village in seconds, decimate armies by themselves, and pose a threat to even the Order of Masters. The most powerful of these had been Terithia's 'pets'. They were truly fearsome, and when she was defeated, they were locked away with her.

And Pandora was searching fervently for her mother's tomb. She knew there was power there. It was unclear whether she wanted to free her mother or just take her power, but either way, the result would be catastrophic.

The creature walked up to Jacyn, and tugged at his robe. Jacyn kicked it away, repulsed. He got to his feet, and left the library. He walked past several more creatures, all as deformed and useless as the first. Pandora's attempts to emulate her mother had gone horribly.

Jacyn reached Pandora's throne room, and walked in as though he owned it. He knew that would piss her off. And sure enough, she threw him a look of deep annoyance from where she stood with her servants. They were magic users, none as powerful as her, and Brand, who was nearly as powerful as Jacyn. Jacyn slouched into a chair, and tried to look very bored.

Pandora threw him another annoyed look, and said, "Jacyn, what of your information? What use are you to me if not as a spy?"

Jacyn answered dully. "I abandoned my order, Mother. They will not welcome me back. How can I be a spy? But I am a powerful magic user, as you've said yourself."

Brand stepped closer to Pandora, and asked, "Can I go to the library? I'm bored."

Pandora nodded, and Brand walked away, his step fluid. No doubt Pandora had enhanced him physically. Jacyn's mother turned to her lieutenants, and ordered, "Leave."

They did, with many a bow and a murmured, "Yes, Mistress."

Jacyn waited till they were gone, then said, "You like that, don't you mother? You like for them to call you Mistress. Are you mad that I don't call you that?"

Pandora's face didn't change. "I've nearly become bored of your insolence, Jacyn. Do not forget that I can do whatever I like, and that includes doing whatever I like to you. You are expendable. All I need is the location of that blasted tomb. When I find that, I'll be unstoppable."

Jacyn made a bored noise. "If you can beat the guardians. I know where the tomb is. But you won't be able to enter it."

Pandora whipped around to face him. "What? You know where it is and you didn't tell me?"

Jacyn shrugged. Pandora advanced a few steps, and said softly, "I think you forget your place, my son." And she flicked a hand at him. Jacyn fell out if his chair, pain lancing through his body. He clamped his mouth shut, not making a sound, while he writhed on the floor at her feet. At last, she let off, and Jacyn went limp.

Pandora left him there, and sat on her throne. She surveyed him through slitted eyes, and said, "You will tell me where the tomb of Terithia lies."

Jacyn panted, trying to work the pain from his system. At last, he said, "It's buried underneath the Palace of the Masters. You would have found it if you'd taken Queen's City."

Pandora's jaw dropped. Then she smiled coldly. She left her throne, and strode t a window. "They built their stronghold . . . on top of their greatest enemies. 'An empire built on the graves of my enemies.' That's an old Empire saying. Mother rather liked it. Naturally, with the Council of Five there, they could prevent the tomb from being opened from the inside. Terithia will be much weakened. But not destroyed."

Jacyn was only half listening. He drug himself up from the floor, and hoped to whatever gods there were that the Masters could deflect Pandora's next attack. Or at least make it easy for him to kill her. Once and for all.

* * *

Ander looked up. That was the only real way _to_ look, without looking back. They had ridden for two hours from Fillholme, and reached this shrine. It had been built shortly after Terithia's fall, and was meant to worship the Aren.

Ander had hoped that getting to their city would be easier, but he hadn't expected it to be _that _easy. He knew where it was, thanks to a handy spell, but he wasn't quite sure how to get there.

Actually, he knew how _he_ was going to get there, but not how Tristan would. Ander would simply fly there. But Tristan would either have to stay where he was, or grow wings.

Ander made up his mind. He turned to Tristan, who was looking around the shrine. His Apprentice looked up as Ander walked back to him, and explained his plan. Tristan looked dubious, but Ander explained the urgency. Tristan nodded, and set about making camp. He would stay there for two days, and if Ander wasn't back by the third morning, he was to head for Fillholme, and wait there for another two days.

If Ander still didn't appear, he would go back to Queen's City and report that Ander was missing. Ander didn't give him much time to ponder, but snapped his wings out, and took to the sky. Flying with a cloak was harder, but not impossible. Just more tiring. He was above the clouds in a few seconds, and then he could see it.

The city of the Aren was gorgeous. Built of marble and bronze, it shimmered in the sun. It was built to look like a palace, and it put any palace Ander had seen to shame. There was one tower, rising in the center, with four large halls at it's cardinal points. Other corridors and such things were open to the sky. Around the city, Ander could see winged beings darting through the wispy clouds.

Ander flew closer, and they scattered, like birds avoiding a predator. He landed in a large courtyard in front of the palace, and slowly folded his wings.

Three of the strangest looking beings Ander had ever seen approached, all staring at him. They were dressed differently from each other, with the two on the flanks wearing long white tunics belted at the waist, with long slits in the back for their large white wings. They were like solid pureness, they were so blindingly white.

The Arenian in the center wore a long white robes. He looked Ander up and down, and said in a lofty voice, "What is your purpose, Thaumaturgist?" It was slightly disconcerting. All three were almost identical. They all had black eyes, without white or pupil. Their hair was platinum blonde, and they were all so fair in complexion that they put snow to shame.

Ander bowed to them, a formality he wouldn't use on humans. "I am here to speak with your patriarch, if that is acceptable." He removed his hood, not wanting to appear rude.

The Arenian regarded Ander for a second longer, then responded, "Yes. You may speak with him. I will lead you, Master."

Ander was surprised. He hadn't know that Arenians regarded Masters with respect. He followed the tall being, aware that he was taller than Ander. But the other two had been of average height. So It must not have been a predominate feature of their race.

They passed many other Arenians, all of whom stopped to stare. The halls were all made of marble and bronze, and polished quite brightly. Ander could see his reflection in it.

They stopped outside a large marble door, engraved with symbols in gold. The Arenian guiding Ander reached out, and touched door lightly. With a hollow _boom_, they swung open. The Arenian bowed. "Master Dante awaits."

Ander nodded politely, and walked into the room. It was like the rest of the palace, except instead of bronze, it was gold. A throne made of pure white marble sat between two lancet windows against the far wall.

Another Arenian lounged on it, this one with the same platinum hair, but instead of black, his eyes were solid gold. He wore robes of solid gold, which would likely drag on the floor if he stood.

Ander bowed, and asked, "Lord Dante?"

The Arenian inclined his head. "I am called Master here, Master. And you of course are here on orders from Master Damon?"

Ander froze. How could Dante know Damon? Why wouldn't Damon have told him that? Ander covered his shock by saying, "The entire Council of Five, actually. I was sent to ask your help on a most important matter."

Dante leaned forward. "What matter is this?

Before Ander could answer, the door opened with another loud _boom. _Ander turned, and saw another Arenian standing there, but he had the same gold eyes as Dante. He had long golden hair instead of platinum, like most Arenians Ander had seen. He was dressed in long white and gold robes, which brushed the floor. His wings were a soft brown, only accenting his strangeness.

The new Arenian spared Ander a glance, before saying, "Father, I wanted to-"

Dante cut him off with a sharp gesture. He stood, and stepped down from the dais that the throne stood on, and crossed to the younger Arenian. He stood before him for a second, then turned to Ander. "What were you saying Master? Before we were so rudely interrupted?"

His son flushed, bringing some color to his pale face. But he didn't speak. Ander glanced at him, then went on, "The Council of Five extends invitation to a council of the races. They wish to discuss many things that involve the entire world."

Dante raised a delicate eyebrow. "Such as Terithia's rise? The plot to free her?"

Ander didn't nod or otherwise respond physically. "It will be discussed, Master Dante."

Dante nodded. "I will attend. When is this meeting to take place?"

Ander pointed up. "On the next full moon."

Dante smiled. "I assume that you will travel to Terithia's other races? The Aelf, the Del, the Aedal? And perhaps the Vampyr and Lycans?"

Ander shuddered. The Vampyr were the stuff of legends. They were mankind's demons. They were dead, if the old stories were to be believed. They could appear to be into whatever their victim most feared. They drank their victim's blood, and it kept them young. They could fly, though they didn't have wings. And they could invade people's dreams.

And the Lycans, or Wolf-men. They existed, of course. But many years ago, during Terithia's reign, they'd been enslaved by the Empress. Many hundreds had been killed, and now there weren't many. They still lived as slaves and servants, though. Ander had never met one.

"I do not know the Council's mind. You might ask them, at the meeting."

Dante nodded thoughtfully. He turned towards his throne, and his son spoke, "Father, I wanted to ask, may I-"

Dante spun around, and backhanded the younger Arenian, sending him to the floor. He didn't explain his action, instead turned back to his throne. He spoke over his shoulder to Ander. "I will be at the meeting. Inform your Council."

Ander nodded, threw a sympathetic look at the younger Arenian, and bowed. He walked out of the room, and met the Arenian who'd guided him to the throne room. He informed him that he was prepared to leave, and then followed him back through the large palace.

When they arrived at the courtyard, Ander thanked him, and spread his wings. He jumped into the air, and dove down from the palace. He stayed close to the cliff, enjoying the challenge. He knew that if he changed his trajectory even a little bit in that direction, he'd splat on the rocks. He could already see the shrine, and something bothered him. No smoke. That was strange. The first thing Tristan should have done was start a fire.

Then he heard something behind him. Ander glanced over his shoulder, and saw something hurtling towards him. He pulled out of his dive, and turned to face it. He sang, intending to immobilize the thing, whatever it was.

The magic seemed to slip off it's target, like water off a metal roof. The thing increased it's speed, and hurtled straight at Ander. They collided.

Ander felt like he'd hit a tree at around thirty miles an hour. His breath gushed out, and he instinctively attacked, kicking and punching with quick, precise blows. Each was followed by a small hiss of pain, and Ander kicked away from his attacker, and gained the strategic higher air.

Ander couldn't believe his eyes. It was an Arenian, but that wasn't what shocked him so. It wasn't just any Arenian. It was Dante's son.

Ander glided to the mountainside, and the young Arenian followed cautiously. Ander set down, and waited patiently while his attacker did the same. Then he grabbed his robes, and slammed him into the cliff face. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He coughed, and responded, "Wanted . . . to follow . . . you . . . ."

Ander raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

He shook his head weakly. "You wouldn't understand. Can I come with you, please?"

Ander's eyes widened, but then he remembered Tristan. No fire, and that concerned him. "For now. Hurry up and let's go." Ander released him, and then jumped off the cliff, his wings catching the air. He could almost feel the Arenian behind him, but he didn't care.

He knew what had happened before he landed. The horses were gone, there was no fire. And there were signs of a struggle. Ander cast a quick spell, to determine where Tristan's captor had gone, and then he jumped into the air again, ignoring the surprised sound the Arenian made. He had just gotten an Apprentice. He'd be damned if he lost him.

Ander took maybe three seconds to make up his mind. Then he was flying again. He could hear and feel the young Arenian behind him, but he made no sign that he knew, or cared. He really didn't. All he cared about at the moment was getting his Apprentice back.

They only flew maybe three miles before the small group came into view. Ander surveyed them critically, and deduced that they were only highwaymen. They had probably though that a Master would be carrying valuable things. Tristan hadn't yet removed the black cloak. He was a sure target. Ander dove, and landed a few hundred feet down the road from them.

Ander sang, weaving himself into the air. He looked down, and could barely make out his outline. But his shadow was easily visible. He sang again, quickly, and his shadow vanished just as the men came into view.

The men and their incredibly attractive leader. She wore tight leather pants and a leather jerkin. She had a sword belted at her waist, and two knives strapped to her arms. She had long black hair, and sharp eyes. Tristan was slung over her saddle, like a trophy. They'd removed his cloak, and his hair had blood in it. He was unconscious. Ander could see the Arenian circling high above, but he didn't know if he would descend. Hopefully he would be smart, and stay up high.

Then the woman stopped her horse. She threw up a hand, and said a few words in a language Ander couldn't understand, but then, neither could her men. Her eyes widened, and she yelled, "Trap! Weapons!"

Ander sang again, and she was thrown off her horse. Ander moved, still singing. Three of her six men gasped, clutching their chests. They fell into the dust, their hearts stopped. The other three fell from their mounts as well, but they were only bound, not dead.

The woman leapt to her feet. Somehow she'd thrown off Ander's magic. She had her knives in her hands, and then they were flying. Ander sang, and one of them made an odd sound, as though it had been deflected off a crystal bell. The other moved too quickly, though. It whipped under Ander's spell, and struck him in the wing.

Ander hissed in pain, and the woman yelled in triumph. She drew her sword, lightning fast, and ran at him. Ander sang, and the sword burned white hot. She screamed, and dropped it, but tackled Ander anyways. She knocked him off his feet, and they rolled through the dirt, each trying to gain the upper hand. But Ander was Prodigious. He was much stronger and faster than a normal person. He overpowered her, and sang, harder and faster, with more passion.

Then another voice joined his. He looked up, and saw Tristan lying near her horse, his eyes shut, but his mouth moving as he clumsily sang along. The woman screamed again, clawing at her throat. She tore a small pendant from her neck, and threw it away.

At once, the combined magics of both Ander and Tristan overpowered her. She lay inert, unconscious. Ander rose, and retrieved the pendant. He could feel his magic weaken, and sang softly. At once, he detected an enchantment on the trinket, and he had a feeling it was an anti-magic spell.

He dropped it, and went to Tristan. He could see that the Apprentice was having trouble moving, and he helped him to sit up. "What hurts? What did they do?"

Tristan didn't answer right away. Then he said, "They surprised me. I had a detection spell, but that pendant negating it. Before I could defend myself, she was on op of me. She hit me in the head with a club, and that's all I remember until a few minutes ago. I don't know what they wanted, but I don't think it was money. I didn't have any."

Ander nodded thoughtfully. "No, they didn't want money. That pendant is magic, so they must work for a magic user. Though artifacts like that have to drain on the user's own energy. She wasn't a magic user, so we overpowered the artifact. I wonder why she wanted you, though. Maybe . . . ."

"Maybe what?" Tristan looked curious, but still pretty hurt. Ander shook his head. "Nothing. Here, lay back, I'll heal you."

Tristan looked surprised. "You can do that?"

Ander raised an eyebrow. "Obviously." He didn't want to tell Tristan about the war, mostly because he only knew some of the story, and none of the details. He helped Tristan lay back, and pressed a hand to his head. Tristan hissed in pain, and Ander lightened up a bit. He knew he could heal him, but didn't know how.

Ander sang, pouring energy into Tristan, thinking of cuts healing, bruises fading. He was using magic he didn't fully understand, and he didn't like it. But Tristan might have had a concussion, and Ander knew they couldn't ignore that. Tristan sighed, and Ander raised his hand and cut off the flow of magic. He helped Tristan to his feet, and Tristan said, "Thanks, Master."

Ander nodded, and said, "We have a companion. He's Aren, and he seems to want to go with us, for some reason." He pointed up, and Tristan whistled as he saw the Arenian gliding down towards them. Then Ander remembered the woman and the three unconscious men. He turned, and saw that he had to strike that. The woman, and _two_ unconscious men. The third had disappeared.

Ander swore, and Tristan stared at him. Ander didn't explain but he knew that the man couldn't escape. He sang, loud, cold, and hard. Tristan shuddered, feeling the death in the melody, and he turned to the Arenian. Ander, however, continued to sing until he felt, in his heart and through his magic, the man was dead. He turned to the others, and knew that he had to kill them as well. He sang again, and they died painlessly, never waking up.

The Arenian walked over to Ander, and said, "I met you in my father's court. Amongst my people, it is polite to introduce ourselves. I am Za'miel."

Ander nodded wearily. "I am Master Ander. Around other Masters or members of my order, besides Tristan, you will address me only as Master. Otherwise, just call me Ander. Tristan, you can call me Ander under those circumstances as well."

Tristan nodded. He pointed at the woman. "What will we do with her?"

Ander shrugged. "We'll take her to Fillholme. We have to keep moving. We have a mission to accomplish. We have to get to Vana as soon as possible." He referred to the small village where the Del lived. It was outside the borders of Endon, in the swamplands to the west. The west was generally divided into the distinct areas. The Swamps, which were in the northern wild-lands. The Forest, which was on the southern coast, and the Mountains, which stood between them. Conveniently, the Del lived in the swamp, the Aedal in the Mountains, and the Aelf in the Forest.

Ander looked off in that direction, and almost thought he could see where the air grew thicker above the dismal marshlands. He could almost taste the heavy, stagnant air, and feel the moisture. He didn't exactly _want_ to go to such a place, but duty was duty.

"All right, let's go."

* * *

**A/N: Well, this chapter's done. We've met the Aren! And to those who might know, what does Za'miel mean? PM me with the right answer and I'll send you a nice spoiler. PM me if you want to beta, and everyone, please Review! Reviews make any author's world go round! They make us feel warm and fuzzy! Review!**

**Arciadrian**


	11. The People of the Swamp

**People of the Swamp**

**A/N: Hello again! I'm glad you're all still here! Though not many of ya review. This chapter's going out to Serindraxx, just 'cause she deserves it, and Laura B B, who left the most awesome and helpful review I've ever gotten. Cheers, you two.**

* * *

Ander knew better than to waste too much time in the open. He turned to Tristan and Za'miel, and found both of them waiting for his orders. He pointed at the woman, and said, "See if we can get her horse to carry her, and we'll bring her back to Fillholme. But this time we enter the city as beggars. We don't have time for another longer visit."

Tristan leapt to obey, lifting the woman and slinging her across her saddle. Za'miel only looked uncomfortable. He glanced back at his home, which couldn't be seen through the thick fog that blanketed the mountain. He turned away from it with a sigh.

Ander stopped him. "Why are you here, Za'miel? You're the son of a leader, you have political importance, and you will only really fit in with so many people. Why did you leave?"

Za'miel shrugged. "My father can rule our people without difficulty. I am not needed." He brushed past Ander, who considered stopping him, and demanding a straight answer. But they had little time. He instead found his horse, stolen by the bandits, and got into the saddle. Tristan hurried to copy him, but Za'miel looked apprehensive. "How can your people ride such beasts? They must surely throw you off."

Ander shook his head. "You must ride. We can't take a chance of you being seen by other people. It would cause a panic. Ride, or go home." He wasn't surprised when Za'miel hesitated only a second, then got slowly and clumsily into the saddle. He trembled slightly whenever the horse moved, but he appeared to be adjusting.

Ander started slowly, for the young Arenian's sake. He steadily increased their pace, until they were trotting. The journey would be longer, but not unbearably so. It took them roughly four hours to get to the city.

They didn't really enter. They entrusted the woman to the guard captain. He promised that she would be imprisoned, and tried soon for crimes against the Order. Ander nodded, sensing no deceit in the man's words. They left the city in the same hour.

The journey to the Swamp, called Morgwain's Bog, would take a few days. Ander felt content to just ride and enjoy the small measure of peace. The road they were traveling was little used, and then only by trappers after the scant game and fur in the marshlands.

But Za'miel and Tristan talked on and off, softly. Ander didn't stop them, since in his eyes they were doing nothing wrong. But Ander also had a reason to talk to the young Arenian, and intended to do so. When they stopped for the night.

Their camp was small, really just big enough for the three of them and their horses. Ander told Tristan to start the fire, and Za'miel to help him. Ander himself unsaddled the horses. He set their saddles aside, and then brushed them down. He paid special attention to his own, a large black stallion. The Order had the best horses anywhere, and this one was one of the best they had. Ander had picked him two days before he had left Queen's City.

Ander went and sat by the now crackling fire. He removed his hood, and reached into his cloak. He pulled out his small packets of food, and passed them around. They ate in silence, and then Ander stowed the food away again. He turned to Tristan, and said, "You may have three questions, as usual. What are they?"

Tristan thought for a second, then said, "How would we make something like that pendant, enchant something like that?"

Ander nodded. "Good question. You have to pour your own energy into it, and then shape that energy into a spell while it's still inside the object. This can be as difficult as taking a spell from someone else. You have to influence that which you have very little control over."

Tristan nodded, drinking this in. Then he asked, "How did you defeat all those men? If I'd tried to use that much magic, it would have Spellstruck me!"

Ander laughed softly, remembering the feeling. He never wanted to feel that way again. He had avoided spells that took too much energy, and he seemed to be building a resiliency to the negative effects of Magic. "I am Prodigious. I have more power than you. And I know how to cast spells and avoid using too much energy. I will teach you, but they really aren't hard. All you have to do is know how the world works."

Tristan nodded, and said, "Why did they capture me? If they were just thieves, they would have just killed me."

Ander sighed. He had hoped to avoid telling Tristan that, but the boy was smart. He could have denied him an answer, but that would have been wrong. "You've heard of the Scion of Terithia? The cult that is trying to resurrect her?"

Tristan shook his head, but Za'miel nodded. Ander wasn't surprised. If the Aren had been created by Terithia, they likely knew a lot about her. Ander went on, "They are trying to destroy our order. They need more magic users, though, and that's where you come in. They were trying to bring you to their master. They want as many magic users as they can get."

Tristan looked pale, but Za'miel looked like he'd heard it all before. He just nodded sadly. Ander turned his attention to him. "Tristan has had his questions, now I will have mine. You seem to know much about Terithia's other creations. What can you tell me about them?"

Za'miel shrugged. "I know their cultures, their beliefs, their appearances, their weapons, and I know a good deal about their leaders."

Ander didn't show the shock in his mind. "Tell me what you know about the Del. We will be going there soon. Tell me everything. We'll discuss that and more tonight."

Za'miel just looked relieved that they hadn't sent him home. He sat up straighter. "I'll start with their basic culture. They have a chief, and everyone else who has reached adulthood is considered part of their tribe. They believe that Terithia was a demon who created their race only to destroy it, and they hate her with a vengeance. They are certainly not human, and they live in small villages either underwater or on small floating platforms. They're amphibious, but they have to come to the surface for air every hour or so. They use staves as weapons, because there's no metal in the Marshlands. Most of their natural enemies are soft skinned, and vulnerable to their staves.

"Their leader is a powerfully built Del, standing maybe six feet tall. He's a gifted warrior, but like all of Terithia's races, he is also an accomplished magic user. Unlike the others, the Del have to have moisture on their skin to use magic. All of the races have a different way of using magic. We Aren have to have physical contact with the thing we're trying to affect, the Del need moisture, the Aedal need to be able to see whatever they're using magic on, and the Aelf can control magic in their minds. They are the closest to you Masters."

Ander nodded. What can you tell me about the Vampyr and the Lycans?"

Za'miel's face darkened. "You shouldn't ask about them. But I will tell you, because you have been kind. The Vampyr are the closest thing in the world to being truly evil. When Terithia created them-"

Tristan made a surprised sound, and interrupted, "I didn't think Terithia created them!"

Za'miel nodded. "They were her first creations. They were also her most powerful. She learned not long after she created them that they were too powerful. She had the Vampyr hunted to near extinction, and the Lycans she enslaved. The Vampyr are demons, and very hard to kill. There are not many left. They need the blood of living things to keep them immortal, or they age and die. They can invade their victim's dreams, and kill with their eyes. They are horrible. I've only ever seen one, and she was nearly impossible to kill. She killed almost a hundred of my people before she was eventually slain. And where her blood touched the stones, they were stained black."

Ander nodded, processing this information. He thought that the Vampyr would be easier to kill for him, because he was not only Prodigious, but also not handicapped like the Aren. He didn't need physical contact to use magic. "And the Lycans?"

Za'miel shook his head sadly. "They're still alive, some of them. They're slaves, trapped by magic and silver. I've met a few, my father has two of them himself. They're strong, useful when you need them to lift something. In Terithia's time, they were used for anything their masters could think of. She had hundreds of them herself, and had them kill each other.

"But they are powerful. They can change into wolves, but they're usually under enchantments so that they can't. They live forever, unless they're killed, and they seem to hate Vampyr more than anything."

Ander nodded. He turned and rolled himself in his blankets. "Get some sleep. We're going to the Marshlands tomorrow. I need both of you to be fully rested."

Za'miel lay down without complaint, and Tristan was already half asleep. Ander closed his eyes, and softly sang his usual spells, one to wake him in danger, and one to wake him at dawn. Then he fell asleep.

* * *

Ander woke in the night. He sat bolt upright, looking around frantically. He had felt the effects of his spell, and knew that there was an intruder somewhere. Then he looked up.

Four large shapes were descending towards their camp. Ander's Prodigious senses told him they were Aren, but he couldn't think of a reason for them to be following them. Then his eyes fell on Za'miel. He swore, his voice almost silent. Of course. They were coming after Za'miel. He hadn't left with his father's leave, and they wanted him back.

Ander stood, and kicked sand at Tristan to wake him. His Apprentice woke with a start, and looked wildly around. When he found only Ander, he rose calmly to his feet, and threw him a questioning glance.

Za'miel woke seconds later, and glanced at the two Magic users quizzically. Then he got the message, and looked up. He gasped, and fell into a defensive position. He looked ready to defend himself. Ander only briefly wondered why. Then the Arenian's landed.

They glared openly at Za'miel, and with slight fear at the two black cloaked figures. Then the leader stepped forward. He wore a long cloak as well, this one gray, which hid his face from view. He pointed at Za'miel, and proclaimed, "He must come with us. His father demands that you turn him over to us."

Za'miel made a small noise, but Ander ignored him. "That is not your decision, nor mine. Za'miel will return to his people when he sees fit."

The Arenian took a few steps forward in anger. "His father demands it!"

Ander matched his pace and his tone. "I am a Master! His father holds no authority over mine, and I will not be spoken to like this! Now leave, or I will make you wish you had!"

The Arenian was silent, then he slowly reached up and removed his hood. As it left his head, Ander's eyes widened. It was the Arenian's Master, and Za'miel's father. He surveyed Ander, then said, "I will have my son back Master. Get out of my way."

Ander placed himself firmly into his path. "Not until Za'miel says that he wishes to return. Za'miel, why do you wish to flee from your father?"

Za'miel made a small noise, then said in a whisper, "He . . . he hits me, when he's angry. He hates me, and I didn't want to be around him. I just wanted to be left alone!"

His father reacted as though each word was a blow. He took several steps back, then said, "So be it. You shall have no sanctuary from me, Za'miel. Nor shall you have my title and rank when I pass. I cast you out. Aren everywhere shall be forbidden to aid you, and if you return to our city, you shall be put to death."

Za'miel shrank away from his father's anger, and his father turned to Ander. "You shall have no help in this war with Terithia. The Aren shall let you die."

Ander went still. He didn't move for so long, two of the Arenian's guards shifted with unease. Then Ander spoke. "I was being polite before. As you know perfectly well. I was not asking whether you would aid the Masters, I was ordering you to do so. If you refuse to comply, you will be arrested for crimes against the Masters. You live in Endon, and so are subject to the laws of the land. I expect you in Queen's City for the Council in a month. If you are not there, I will revisit your city, and believe me, Arenian, such a day of blood and death you have not seen."

He went pale, and stepped back again. Then he flipped his hood back on, and leaped into the sky. He and his men were gone in seconds.

Ander didn't turn to Tristan, though he felt the Apprentices eyes on him. He quickly composed himself. _I hate acting like this, being a judge, an enforcer, and an executioner. I hate it. But what can I do?_ He turned, and saw Tristan, instead of waiting for instruction, comforting Za'miel. Ander waited, for several minutes, while Tristan held Za'miel in his arms, making soothing noises. Ander guessed that the young Arenian had been holding all that in for months, maybe years. He must have been pretty messed up.

The first rays of the sun were striking the treetops when at last Za'miel moved away from Tristan. He rose, and said, "How are we planning to get to the Marshlands? It will take us a few days, at least, on those horse animals."

Ander nodded. "I know. Which is why we aren't taking horses. We're flying." Tristan went pale, and started shaking his head, but Ander nodded firmly. "Tristan, come here. Za'miel, I may need your help." Tristan warily complied, and Ander took off his robe, baring his shoulders. He lightly ran his fingers across them, singing softly. Tristan went rigid, and started to squirm. Ander nodded to Za'miel, who grabbed the Apprentice's wrist. At once, Tristan stopped moving, and Ander completed his spell.

From Tristan's shoulders now protruded large brown wings. They were feathered, and the same as Ander's, only brown instead of black. Tristan warily moved them, and seemed surprised by how easy it seemed. Za'miel released him from the enchantment. Then Ander said, "Let's try them out."

After a few falls, one from over fifty feet, (Tristan was still swearing) they were off. At the pace they now traveled, they would easily arrive in the Marshlands by the following day. Ander would allow one more stop, because he didn't want to push Tristan too hard. Za'miel was flying as close as possible to the Apprentice, offering tips, occasional jokes, and otherwise instructing him in the art of flying.

They flew for a few hours, then stopped, both to relieve themselves and give Tristan a much need break. They took to the air again, and didn't stop until nightfall. When they stopped, with his Prodigious senses, Ander could see the beginnings of the Marshlands in the gloom.

Ander built the fire, while Za'miel and Tristan gathered water and firewood. Of course, they didn't need any, but Ander would be tired after maintaining the fire for so long. When they had all completed their tasks, they sat around the fire, which was now blazing cheerfully.

Ander turned to speak to Tristan, but then a small glimmer in the air, over their campfire, caught his attention. He stared at it, as it took a shape. A human shape.

Ander recognized him instantly. He stood at once, and Tristan, seeing the man's black Master robe, stood and bowed. Za'miel stood, but only appeared confused. Ander greeted the figure.

"Master Jaycn."

The older Master nodded. "Master Ander. I'm glad I was able to contact you. My mother is keeping very close tabs on me. Her . . . servants, are always watching. But I was able to get away, to send this message. So listen carefully.

"My mother is attempting to find a way into the Tomb of Terithia. But she does not want her mother freed. She wants the knowledge her mother has. Terithia is as close a anyone can get to being truly immortal. She can now only be killed with her true name. My mother is close, very close. But there are still ways, magical ways, to kill her. Her true name would be your strongest weapon against her, but I can't find it. She hid it too well. I know what you're doing, trying to gather Terithia's races. They will be needed. My mother fears them, but I don't know why. Something about a Prophecy. Also, and more importantly, there is one being that she is trying very hard to find, who is mentioned in the Prophecy. He's a Lycan, but-"

The image faded. Ander could only stare at the spot I shock and frustration, knowing he could do nothing. He sat, and Tristan, after a minute's surprise, joined him on the ground. Za'miel looked like he thought he knew too much.

Tristan was obviously burning with questions, but he was quiet. Ander was grateful. _Pandora's true name? The other races will be _needed_? A Prophecy? Pandora's looking for a _Lycan_? _The whole thing was too confusing. He needed to talk to the Council. But he didn't know how to cast a communication spell like that. A regular message would have to do.

At last, Tristan's patience wore out. "What the hell just happened?"

Ander turned to him. "I don't know. But you can have your three questions. They _can't _be about what just happened, because I won't answer them until I know more."

Tristan looked very disappointed, but he nodded. "Okay, why is a true name so important?"

Ander considered the question. He had used a true name only once before. And the power of it scared him. "A true name gives you ultimate magical power over whatever you've named. Some spells, powerful ones, must contain true names. A true name is not a spell of itself, but can be used as one."

Tristan processed this, then asked, "How do you create something with magic?"

Ander didn't answer immediately, trying to find the reasoning behind the question. At last he said, "Anything is possible through magic. To create something, you must see how it is being created. Very few people can create things directly from magic. Taking an object that already exists and changing it's shape is much easier. I assume you got that question from the legends of Terithia creating monsters, along with the other races? As to that, only she knows how it was done."

Tristan nodded, and asked, "If Rituals have to be performed in certain ways, doing certain things, why can all magic users perform them, when we're all different in magic?"

Ander smiled slightly. "I can create a fire in many different ways. I can also destroy a building in many ways. To perform a ritual, you must only complete an action. The methods used to perform that action do not matter. And that was your last question. Go to sleep, Apprentice. We meet with the Del in the morning."

* * *

When Ander woke, Tristan was already awake. He was sitting a few feet from their campfire, examining his new wings. He still wasn't used to them. Ander woke Za'miel by softly shaking his shoulder, and they broke camp. None of them spoke.

Ander led the way, taking to the sky. They had hardly flown for ten minutes when Za'miel called, "We're passing into Del territory! We need to land! They don't take kindly to people trespassing!" Ander nodded, and angled downward, moving only the tips of his feathers. They landed gracefully on a semi-solid island (Ander and Za'miel did, while Tristan crashed into a shrub), which stood in the middle of a placid swamp.

Mangroves blocked their view, a little over ten feet tall and wreathed in mist. Ander surveyed their surroundings with distaste. They would have to travel through the mud. Which he didn't want to do. Then a thought struck him. Magic.

Ander sang, softly at first, but then louder. Slowly, yet surely, the ground rose from beneath the water, and the water and mud receded. Ander walked down this new path, making land appear in front, and allowing it to sink after they'd passed.

They made their way steadily into the massive swamp. When Tristan asked Za'miel how they would find the Del, the Arenian had replied that the Del would find them. Which did wonders for Ander's confidence.

Sure enough, the Del found them. Ander threw up a hand, halting Tristan and Za'miel. He sensed something . . . coming closer. Underwater.

With a large splash, a creature surfaced, it's soft brownish-green skin streaming water. It's large black eyes studied them, but it didn't appear afraid. It had pinkish gills just below it's jawline, and they fluttered with it's breathing.

Then the creature abruptly stood from the water, sending a small wave against their magic pathway. It was humanoid, but at it's elbows, and shoulders, large spiked fins grew smoothly from it's skin. It's hair was lank, but somewhat thick, for a water creature. It was dressed only in loincloth, and had another cloth wrapped around it's chest, hiding telltale curves. It was female.

The Del Woman cocked her head sideways, and spoke, but not in English. She spoke in a strange language, which sounded like water rushing over rocks. Hisses, soft rustling noises, and small clicks. When none of them responded, she repeated in English, "Why are you trespassing in Our swamp?"

Ander took a step forward. The Del hissed in warning, and brought up her staff, which Ander hadn't noticed. It was short, made of a solid, highly polished wood. She held it firmly, and from her grip and stance alone, Ander knew that she was a formidable fighter. He held up his hands peacefully. "I seek a meeting with the Chief of your people. I am a Master from Queen's City."

She looked puzzled. "A Master? But why are you here?"

Ander thought for a moment, then replied, "We seek your people's aid in our fight against Terithia's daughter."

The effect of these words was immediate. The Del Woman took three steps back, and her lips parted in a sharp hiss. Her face blackened, her expression stormy. She beckoned. "This way. Chief Ak'set must see you at once." She turned, and dove underwater. Ander sang, and jumped after her. He felt Tristan and Za'miel follow.

His spell had worked. He was breathing normally. Tristan had his face screwed up in concentration. Za'miel looked similar. Ander turned to the Del, and let out a gasp that was only bubbles. She was _right there_, two feet in front of him. She beckoned again, and swam away. Ander noticed her feet, which were bare, were long fins, with sharp spines for toes. They moved her quickly and powerfully through the water.

Their journey was surprisingly short. They arrived at their destination, and the Del woman surfaced, followed by Ander, Tristan, and Za'miel.

A large village was before them, all the buildings built on stilts above the water. Various Del, male and female, walked on elevated walkways. Everything was made of wood. There was no stone, no metal. Torches lit the city, their smoke helping keep mosquitoes away.

The Del woman led them to a small dock, and Ander noticed that there were small boats, most no bigger than canoes, moored there. The Del, it seemed, made their entire living on the water. They walked through the village, their boots loud compared to the Del's soft feet. They passed many other Del, proud looking men, hard eyed women, and solemn children of both genders. They all nodded respectfully to the Del woman they had met in the swamp, and stared at the outsiders suspiciously.

Then they arrived at a large building, built on stouter logs, made from darker wood. The Del woman knocked, and entered, followed by Ander, Tristan, and Za'miel. Their first impression was _cluttered. _The entire room was filled with odd trinkets, large jars with _things_ suspended in them, and a few, very rare books. There were no windows, but a central fire was blazing, with a high backed chair carved from a large log sitting on the other side, facing the flames.

In the chair sat a very old, very frail looking Del man. His hair was white, his eyes slightly filmy, and at his right hand rested a walking staff. He was dressed in a long robe made from natural fibers, dyed blue and red. He looked up as they entered, and smiled at the Del woman. "N'tra. Welcome, welcome. And who are your companions?"

The Del woman, N'tra, bowed to the old Del. "Chief Ak'set. These are envoys from the Masters in Queens City. They say they have come to ask our aid in their fight against Terithia's daughter."

The chief looked grave. "You names, Masters? And you as well, young Arenian. No-one shall be a stranger in my village."

Ander pulled back his hood, to show respect. "I am Ander. My Apprentice is Tristan, and the Arenian is Za'miel. We are honored to meet you, Chief Ak'set. But I must now ask you, will you help us? You have been summoned to a meeting of the races, held at Queen's City. There we will discuss this matter and others."

The chief was quiet, then he smiled. "Among my people, feats of strength and courage are admired, and respected. I cannot answer your question, Master. But I have a counter offer. We have an old tradition, for meetings such as this. If one of you can best one of my warriors, I shall do as you ask."

Ander raised an eyebrow. He knew that the Chief needed his people's support. And they, evidently, had to win that support just the same. "Very well. May we choose which of your warriors we shall fight?"

Ak'set nodded. "But I also get to choose that warrior's opponent. That is fair, is in not?" He had a twinkle in his eyes. "I shall gather three of my warriors, and from them, you shall choose one. I shall choose that warrior's opponent, and then they can fight."

Ander nodded. That _did_ seem fair. He turned to Za'miel and Tristan. "Let's go. We'll choose this warrior." Ak'set rose from his char, and led them out of the house. He spoke to the people in that same strange language that N'tra had used, and they started to mutter excitedly. Two of them came forward. The last warrior, Ander was shocked to see, was N'tra.

Ander studied the other two. Both large males, armed with longer staves. They were well muscled, and appeared to be quite formidable. Ander didn't want to be sexist, but he pointed at N'tra. She lifted a corner of her mouth in a half smile, and Ak'set waited until the village had quieted before he said, "I choose your companion, Tristan!"

There was more shouting at this, all of the Del appeared excited. Tristan stepped forward, and asked, "What are the weapons we use?"

N'tra took one the male's staves, and tossed it to him. He caught it, and swung it a little. When he was satisfied with the weight, he nodded, smiling confidently. They walked to a large central platform, raised about ten feet from the water below. Tristan glanced over the edge, and then back at N'tra. She appeared perfectly at ease, and more confident that he.

Ak'set stepped forward. "There will be no killing! These people are our guests. No magic may be used! Whoever falls from the platform first is the loser." He stepped back, and two Del cut the two bridges that provided access to the platform. "Fight!"

N'tra blurred, she moved so fast. Somehow, Tristan managed to block two of her blows, took one in the thigh, and pressed her back. She slunk away, he body as sinuous as a snake's. She darted in, and feinted with her staff. Tristan saw the trick, and swung. He caught her in the forearm, as she jumped back. She hissed in pain, her arm obviously broken. What he lacked in skill and speed, Tristan made up for in strength. He was stronger than the Del woman. Actually, the Del _girl._ Now that Ander compared her to other Del women, she looked distinctly younger.

N'tra moved in again, and while she only touched Tristan twice, both were heavy blows, and he was starting to grow tired. And she appeared almost as fresh as she had when they had started. She feinted again, and this time, Tristan missed the trick. He moved to block her, and she swung the staff around, hitting Tristan as hard as she could in the shoulder. Something went _crunch!_ Tristan stumbled back, and slipped. He fell with a splash, and surfaced, barely able to tread water.

The Del cheered, and moved forward, jumping the gaps, to hoist N'tra on their shoulders. Two of them jumped into the water, and helped Tristan get back up to the platform. He was cradling his arm, and winced as Del pounded him on the back, raucous with mirth and congratulations.

Ander walked forward, concerned for his Apprentice. The Del moved aside, and Ander examined his shoulder. Cracked. Ander promised to heal it later, and turned to Ak'set. "What now, Chief? What is your decision?"

The old Del smiled. "I chose well, Master Ander! Your Apprentice has a a good heart, and a strong arm! A little headstrong, and without proper combat training, but yes! I chose well. I shall go to this meeting. The Del shall do all in our power to aid you! And now, a feast! To celebrate N'tra's victory, and to fully welcome you to our village!"

He translated what he said into his native tongue, and the Del roared in approval. They moved about, gathering food, starting cooking fires, setting up tables. Ander pulled Tristan aside, and sang softly under his breath. Tristan could understand what he was doing, understand the flow of the song. He started to hum the melody, and the wound healed slightly faster, without draining Ander's energy.

The feast was excellent. They all ate their fill, even Za'miel, who hadn't eaten well since he's left home. Ander lost his Master reserve, and joined in telling and laughing at jokes and stories. He congratulated N'tra on her victory, and consoled Tristan on his defeat. The night was a happy one, for a change. But Ander knew, come morning, that cold, gray reason would return.

* * *

Morning brought reason, as Ander had expected. He knew they had to leave, and soon. He told Ak'set about their impending departure, and he insisted on seeing them off. He arrived, as they were preparing to leave, and to Ander's surprise, N'tra was with him, carrying a pack on her back, and her staff in her hand. Ander cast Ak'set a questioning glance, and the aged chief announced, "I am sending N'tra with you. You have need of an accomplished warrior, and N'tra is the greatest of our fighters. She is not the most powerful in magic, but you are quite accomplished in that respect, Master. I shall make haste to Queen's City, and I hope that we shall meet again there, and may it be Terithia's doom!"

Ander inclined his head respectfully, grateful for the man's support, but cursing the timing. He, Tristan and Za'miel could easily have flown to their next destination, the mountain caves of the Aedal. But with N'tra along, they would be restricted to the ground. But Ander agreed, and their trio became four.

* * *

**A/N: Hey, peoples! I have finally finished this chapter! It was a long time coming, and was hard to write. But it's fairly long, so I expect reviews for my effort, at least! Tell me what you liked, or didn't. Help me improve this story. Joe, I hope you liked this story, which I started working on again only because you asked. Everyone else, you owe him one!**

**Till next chapter,**

**Arciadrian**


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